UC-NRLF 


flS7 


GIFT   ©F 


o 


THE  PASSING  OF  PAN 


THE  PASSING  OF  PAN 

A    METRICAL   DRAMA   IN    A 
PROLOGUE  AND  FOUR  ACTS 


BY 


DWIGHT  L.  CLARKE 


\j 


PHILOPOLIS  PRESS 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA 

MDCCCCXV 


COPYRIGHTED  AS  AN  OPERATIC  LIBRETTO 

APRIL  27,  1911 
BY  DWIGHT  L.  CLARKE 

COPYRIGHT,  1915 

BY  DWIGHT  L.  CLARKE 

SAN  FRANCISCO 


r 
\  '^ 


"O  WE  WILL  GO  WHERE   PAN  IS  KING 
AND   DANCE  IN  HIS  FAIRY  VALES 
WITH  VIOLETS   STREWN,  AND  CEDAR-SET, 
AND   LIST  TO   HIS  WONDROUS  TALES.'* 


329482 


THE  PASSING  OF  PAN 

PROLOGUE 

THE  EDGE  OF  THE  FOREST.  TIME— THE  PRESENT. 

ACT  I 
THE  HEART  or  THE  FOREST:  EARLY  MORNING. 

ACT  II 

ANDRAEON'S  COT  IN  A  CLEARING  OF  THE  FOREST:  AFTERNOON. 

ACT  III 

SCENE  I:  A  MOUNTAINOUS  PART  OF  THE  FOREST:  EARLY 
EVENING,  ONE  WEEK  LATER. 

SCENE  II:  THE  SAME:  NEXT  MORNING. 

ACT  IV 
THE  OAKS  OF  DODONA:  NOON,  THE  SAME  DAY. 

TIME  AND  PLACE  OF  THE  MAIN  ACTION 
GREECE  IN  THE  THIRD  CENTURY  BEFORE  THE  CHRISTIAN  ERA. 


THE  PASSING  OF  PAN. 


PROLOGUE 

SCENE:  At  the  edge  of  a  forest — at  the  back  an  opening  in  the 
trees,  with  a  by-road  running  through  open  fields  to  a  city 
whose  spires  and  roofs  appear  in  the  distance.  These  have 
a  modern  air,  but  the  forest  is  wild  and  dense.  A  mossy 
bank  rises  at  the  left. 

Enter  "PAN  from  the  left,  playing  a  minor  air  on  his  pipes,  cross 
ing  slowly  to  the  center. 

PAN  sings. 

Weary  am  I,  and  dull-hearted; 
Long  lies  the  way  through  the  mountains; 
Dumb  are  the  trees;  and  departed 
All  the  sweet  nymphs  of  the  fountains. 
Where  is  each  gambolling  Satyr — 
Rough,  roguish  mates  once  beside  me? 
Hark!    Is't  their  old  boist'rous  chatter? 
Nay,  e'en  the  echoes  deride  me. 

"Great  Pan  is  dead!"  ran  the  tiding. 
Mankind  grew  cold,  unbelieving, 
Scorning  the  old  faith  abiding; 
Stricken,  the  wood-folk  fled  grieving. 
Yet  all  unworshipped  I  linger; 
Hoping  some  human  still  barkens, 
Once  more  my  pipes  will  I  finger 
Ere  black  Despair  my  end  darkens. 
PAN  seats  himself  on  the  bank,  plays  a  few  bars  on  his  pipes  and 

sings. 

O,  list  ye,  wrinkled  sires  and  dames, 
I'll  banish  your  languor  cold. 
O  come,  ye  prattling  toddlers  all, 
And  hark  to  a  song  of  old. 


2 THE  "PASSING  OF  PAN  Prologue 

Away  beyond  the  setting  sun, 
Where  purples  the  curving  sky, 
Is  a  wondrous  land  where  I  hold  sway 
O'er  a  people  who  never  die. 

The  tree  trunks  there  hide  Dryads  sweet, 
Who  peer  from  the  branches  shy, 
And  every  day  steal  forth  to  dance, 
Safe-guarded  Irom  mortal  eye. 

A  little  girl  runs  on  timidly,  stops  near  the  edge  of  the  trees 
and  watches  PAN. 

In  ferny  glades  that  stud  the  groves 
Sport  shaggy  and  horned  men, 
With  goat-legs  formed  to  nimbler  leap 
In  gambols  in  twilight  glen. 

A  little  boy  comes  on  at  PAN'S  left,  advances  inquiringly,  and 
stands  watching  PAN.  After  a  few  bars  of  song,  he  seats 
himself  on  the  bank  at  the  end  distant  from  the  singer,  and 
gradually  edges  nearer. 

They  haunt  the  chase,  a  merry  rout, 
And  noisily  frolic  when 
Silenus  brews  a  punch,  till  each 
Reels  off  to  his  mossy  den. 

A  second  little  girl  enters  and  takes  the  first  by  the  hand;  to 
gether  they  approach  the  singer  slowly;  other  children  con 
tinue  to  run  on  until  there  are  ten  or  more  grouped  around 
PAN. 

The  violet  sward  its  scent  betrays, 

Like  breath  of  a  maiden  fair; 

And  each  enchanted  waterfall 

Flings  melody  on  the  air. 

At  eve  the  moon  lends  witchery, 

Its  beams  each  bough  ensnare, 

The  south  wind  in  the  pine-tops  wakes 

A  nocturne  that  ends  in  prayer. 

CHILDREN  all  clap  their  hands. 


Prologue  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  3 

CHILDREN,  in  chorus.    Isn't  that  a  pretty  song ! 

PAN.    So,  you  like  it? 

CHILDREN,  shyly.    O  yes,  sir. 

PAN,  to  FIRST  LITTLE  BOY.    What  is  your  name,  general? 

FIRST  LITTLE  BOY.    Tommie,  but — but  I  ain't  no  general — 

yet. 
FIRST  LITTLE  GIRL,  hiding  behind  the  others.    What's  your 

name,  Mister? 
PAN,  simply.    Pan. 

CHILDREN,  in  chorus.    O  what  a  funny  name — Pan! 
FIRST  LITTLE  GIRL.    I  think  it's  a  pretty  name,  Mr.  Pan,  and 

— and  it's  like  the  song. 
PAN,  drawing  her  to  his  side.    So  you  do? 
FIRST  LITTLE  BOY.    What's  your  other  name — your  Sunday 

School  name? 

PAN.     I  haven't  any — just  Pan. 
CHILDREN,  in  chorus,  a  bit  awestruck.    He  hasn't  any — poor 

Mr.  Pan! 
FIRST  LITTLE  GIRL,  shyly.    Won't  you  sing  us  another  song, 

please,  sir? 
CHILDREN,  in  chorus,  joyfully.    O  please,  please,  good  Mr. 

Pan,  sing  us  another  pretty  song  about  the  wonderful 

country. 

PAN.     Will  you  all  be  really  good  if  I  do? 
CHILDREN,  eagerly.    Yes. 
PAN.     And  not  make  any  noise? 
CHILDREN,  louder.    Yes! 
PAN.    You  promise? 
CHILDREN,  shout.    O  please,  Mr.  Pan,  yes! 

FIRST  LITTLE  BOY  turns  a  handspring. 
PAN,  to  FIRST  LITTLE  BOY.    And  you  sir? 
FIRST  LITTLE  BOY,  penitently  but  very  rapidly. 

Honest  and  true,  black  and  blue, 

Lay  me  down  and  cut  me  in  two. 
PAN.    Very  well,  I'll  sing  to  you  about  the  dancing  aspen  tree. 


4  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Prologue 

PAN  takes  his  pipes  and  sings. 

Where  earliest  stirs  awakening  spring 

From  her  couch  all  with  lilies  laid, 

Tripped  a  fairy-like  maiden,  and  sweet  did  she  sing 

Till  a  Satyr  stole  out  of  the  shade. 

The  rogue  caught  her  waist,  with  love  rilled  her  ear 

Though  she  fought  from  his  grasp  to  flee. 

To  a  damsel  like  her  what  trait  could  endear 

A  rough  goaty-limbed  vagrant  like  he? 

Loud  she  cried  to  the  gods,  "O  Diana,  I  pray 

Save  a  maid  from  this  hateful  faun!" 

From  Olympus  the  goddess,  the  mischief  to  stay 

In  a  cloud  enveloped  the  lawn. 

"While  you  dance  and  swift  elude," 
Spoke  Dian,  "his  pace  you'll  quicken 
Nimbly  whirling  so  delude 
That  the  rascal's  brain  will  sicken. 
Ever  trembling  shun  his  touch, 
Writhe  and  sway  in  circles  bending; 
Never  fear  his  clumsy  clutch 
Ere  your  dizzy  motion's  ending." 

CHILDREN  dance. 

So  she  danced  through  a  timeless  maze  down  the  dell, 

While  the  Satyr  still  ardent  pursued, 

Till  the  pitying  gods  on  the  maid  cast  a  spell 

And  with  branches  her  shoulders  endued. 

O  white  shone  her  skin,  her  bark  is  but  grey, 

And  in  silvery  leaves  hides  her  hair, 

O  her  feet  were  like  wings,  would  they'd  borne  her  away 

For  a  tangle  of  roots  they  now  wear. 

And  still  as  an  aspen  she  trembled  and  swayed 

At  the  lightest  caress  of  the  wind, 

Till  a  bevy  of  nymphs  came  seeking  the  maid 

While  more  Satyrs  ran  frisking  behind. 

Ev'ry  maiden  rhythmic  danced — 
Soon  the  bark  around  her  thickened. 
And  each  Sylvan  eager  pranced 
As  the  eerie  music  quickened. 


I 

Prologue  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN 


So  fore'er  the  aspen  groves 
In  the  moonlight  palely  shimmer 
Where  the  phantom  Satyr  roves — 
Quiv'ring,  bowing,  shyly  glimmer. 

CHILDREN  and  PAN  dance. 
CHILDREN. 

What  a  most  peculiar  kind  of  a  tree! 
What  a  very  persistent  goat! 

PAN. 

I  was  there  myself  in  the  company 
And  can  vouch  for  it,  every  note. 

CHILDREN. 

He  can  vouch  for  it,  every  note! 
CHILDREN  sing. 

And  the  maid  turned  into  a  green-boughed  trunk? 

What  a  horrible  thing  to  do ! 

PAN. 

Though  it  sounds  like  the  tale  of  a  Bacchanal  drunk, 
I  assure  you  it's  actually  true. 

CHILDREN. 

He  assures  us  it's  actually  true. 

Dance  ceases,  PAN  drops  his  pipes  and  sinks  down  on  the  bank 
his  head  drooping;  CHILDREN  gather  around  wonderingly. 
FIRST  LITTLE  GIRL.    Won't  you  sing  for  us  any  more? 

PAN  shakes  his  head  slowly. 

PAN,  sadly.    No,  I  am  sick — sick  and  am  going  to  die. 
CHILDREN,  in  chorus.    Die ! — Oh,  poor  Mr.  Pan. 
FIRST  LITTLE  BOY.    What's  the  matter  with  you,  Mr.  Pan? 
PAN.    I  am  sick  because  nobody  really  believes  in  me.  You 

laugh  and  dance  to  my  songs,  but  none  of  you  believes  them, 

and  I  must  die. 

FIRST  LITTLE  GIRL.     Can't  anything  cure  you? 
PAN.    Yes — only  one  thing  in  all  the  wide,  wide  world. 
CHILDREN,  eagerly.    What  is  that,  Mr.  Pan? 


6  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Prologue 

PAN.  Someone  must  believe  in  me  enough  to  promise  that 
he  will  follow  me  to  the  land  I  sing  about,  where  there's 
always  sunshine  and  little  birds  singing,  and  green,  green 
woods,  and  beauty  and  joy  and  love. 

CHILDREN,  shout  in  chorus.  WE  believe,  Mr.  Pan,  O  we  be 
lieve,  and  will  go  with  you  anywhere. 

PAN  leaps  up  revived  and  dances,  CHILDREN  hanging  on  each 
arm. 

PAN. 

O,  list  ye,  wrinkled  sires  and  dames, 
I'll  banish  your  languor  cold, 
O  come  ye  prattling  toddlers  all, 
And  hark  to  a  song  of  old. 

CHILDREN. 

O  we  will  go  where  Pan  is  king 
And  dance  in  his  fairy  vales 
With  violets  strewn,  and  cedar-set, 
And  list  to  his  wondrous  tales. 

CHILDREN  go  off  dancing. 

CURTAIN. 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  or  PAN 


ACT  I 

SCENE  :  The  heart  of  the  forest.  A  woodland  mostly  of  oaks, 
with  some  aspen,  laurel  and  maple;  in  the  half  light  of  "very 
early  dawn,  gradually  lighting. 

THERA  and  chorus  of  DRYADS,  concealed. 
Sweet  are  the  hills  with  the  breath  of  Aurora, 
Rosy's  the  east  with  the  glance  of  her  eye. 
Hither  she  glides  with  Apollo  and  Flora, 
Hail  we  the  dawning,  let  dark  spirits  fly! 
Cool  are  the  lawns  where  with  laughter  we  frolic, 
Nodding  the  hare-bells  our  rhythm  assume. 
Far  from  our  wood  slink  all  shades  melancholic; 
Breathless,  we  rest  'mid  the  sweet  myrtle's  bloom. 

THERA. 

Our  trunks  secrete 
Shy  Dryads  sweet. 

CHORUS  or  DRYADS. 

O  beware  of  the  woodman, — of  the  woodman! 
THERA. 

Each  bud,  each  leaf 

Has  a  life  and  a  grief. 

CHORUS  or  DRYADS. 

O  the  ax  of  the  woodman, — of  the  woodman! 

DRYADS  half  reveal  themselves  in  tree  tops. 
THERA  and  chorus  of  DRYADS 

Summer  first  spies  us  asleep  in  the  dingle, 

Softly  she  rustles  the  leaves  o'er  our  heads; 

While  with  her  whispers  our  melodies  mingle, 

Drooping,  its  perfume  the  hyacinth  sheds. 

Aspen  and  alder  with  hemlock  and  laurel, 

Cypress  and  cedar  o'ertopped  by  the  pine, 

Waving  and  weeping  in  clamorous  quarrel — 

Each  to  be  first  on  whom  Phoebus  will  shine. 


8  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  I 

THERA. 

Our  trunks  secrete 
Shy  Dryads  sweet. 

CHORUS. 

O  beware  of  the  woodman, — of  the  woodman! 
THERA. 

Each  bud,  each  leaf 

Has  a  life  and  a  grief. 

CHORUS. 

O  the  ax  of  the  woodman, — of  the  woodman ! 
Sunlight  strikes  the  tree  tops;  the  lower  woods  remaining  in  half 
light.    THERA  issues  from  a  tree  and  dances,  retires;  other 
DRYADS  dart  forth  from  tree  trunks  and  dance  with  her. 
THERA. 

O  fly,  a  base  intruder  comes. 

CHORUS. 

To  the  trees! 

DRYADS  flee  shrieking  and  conceal  themselves  within  the  tree 
trunks.     Enter  GANYMEDE,  sees  a  DRYAD  running  toward 
a  tree  and  gives  chase. 
GANYMEDE. 

Stay  now,  O  fairy  one ! 
Nor  thither  flee  so  fast;  I  crave 
Your  pardon  for  affrighting  you, 
And  beg  you  stay ! 

DRYAD  disappears  in  the  tree. 
Alas  so  sweet 
A  nymph  so  cruel! 

Another  DRYAD  peers  from  a  tree  and  GANYMEDE  dashes 
toward  her. 

But  Jove  is  good! 
A  fairer  far  beneath  yon  oak! 
Ah  maiden,  wounded  is  my  heart 
And  you  alone  can  cure. 

DRYAD  retreats  laughingly  into  her  tree. 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  9 

Ah  me, 
The  wood  has  turned  to  stone! 

Another  DRYAD  appears  and  mocks  him.  GANYMEDE  hastens 
towards  her. 

But  you 

At  least  are  kind.     O  hear  my  plight; 
I  seek  great  Pan,  my  way  is  lost, 
I  weary  grow  and  fain  would  win 
Thy  dear  arms'  rest.    Pray  gentle  be! 

DRYAD  retreats  into  the  woods  with  derisive  laughter. 
But  no.    How  fair  a  form  may  love 
Exclude! 

Another  DRYAD  beckons  him  and  he  crosses  towards  her. 

At  last  I've  found  you,  sweet, 
My  heart  I'd  offer  were  it  not 
Already  prisoned  by  your  eyes. 
Ah,  set  it  free  that  it  may  throb 
To  do  your  will; 

DRYAD  darts  away  mocking  him. 
Unfriendly  groves, 

Where  Cupid's  darts  would  harmless  fall 
From  flinty  hearts! 

Sees  a  DRYAD  laughing  at  him  from  another  tree. 

Ah  sylvan  queen, 
I  homage  pay  and  suitor  bend 
My  knee  to  thee.     Doth  not  Love  reign 
With  Beauty  here? 

DRYAD  hides  behind  tree  and  mocks  him. 
Nay  fear  me  not! 
I'll  woo  you  in  your  leafy  frame 
Till  jealous  grow  the  trailing  greens. 

He  pursues  her  around  tree. 
See  love  doth  light  my  weary  feet. 

He  stumbles  over  roots  of  oak  and  sprawls  headlong.  DRYADS 
all  peer  down  from  tree  trunks  and  mock  him  as  he  sits 
rubbing  his  head. 


io  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  I 

THERA. 

Hidden  we  dance  where  no  mortal  may  come, 
You  can  ne'er  hope  to  deceive  us. 
Tumble-heels,  lovesick,  how  sudden  grown  dumb ! 
Silent? — his  hurt  must  be  grievous ! 

GANYMEDE. 

Boughs  interlacing,  your  aid  I  implore, 
Shake  down  these  fair  ones  so  mocking. 
Though  for  then:  loveliness  each  I  adore — 
Is  not  their  heartlessness  shocking? 

THERA. 

Sweet  youth  down-hearted,  O  waste  not  your  time, 
Wood  flowers  are  freshest  when  blooming. 
Seek  not  our  conquest  with  passionate  rhyme, 
Wrinkles  will  come  of  your  fuming. 

GANYMEDE. 

Heartless  and  lovely,  a  plague  on  their  sex! 
I  am  near  ready  to  hate  them; 
But  were  they  weaned  from  their  genius  to  vex, 
Whom  would  we  have  imitate  them? 

DRYADS  in  chorus. 

We  love,  we  love,  we  love — not  thee, 
You  shall,  you  shall, — not  bind  the  free. 
Go  bid  the  lark  his  carol  cease, 
But  think  no  more  to  steal  our  peace. 
We  love,  we  love,  we  love — not  thee, 
You  shall,  you  shall — not  bind  the  free. 

Shouting  and  riotous  singing  sounds  in  the  distance.  DRYADS 
disappear  within  tree  trunks.  Enter  SATYRS  with  MYLAS 
at  their  head,  skipping  and  frolicking. 

SATYRS. 

Hither  rolling,  merrily  we  come, 
Goats'  legs  are  the  lightest, 
Sending  packing  old  man  Wisdom  glum, 
Folly's  head's  the  brightest. 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  n 

Where  the  boars  on  autumn's  acorns  feast, 
There  we  stealthy  hie  us, 
For  we  love  the  tusked,  bristled  beast — 
When  he's  roasting  nigh  us. 

Shyly  smiling  through  the  shimm'ring  leaves 
Maidens  sweet  enchant  us, 
Then  they  call  us  horny-pated  thieves 
Of  the  hearts  they  grant  us. 

FIRST  SATYR. 

What  god  from  Mount  Olympus  lost 
In  such  a  sorry  plight? 

GANYMEDE,  raising  himself  painfully. 

Oh— O! 
SATYRS. 

He  groans,  he  moans,  ha,  ha,  ho,  ho! 
FIRST  SATYR. 

I'  faith,  our  old  friend  Ganymede! 
SATYRS. 

'Tis  he,  'tis  he,  a  sight  indeed 

Is  he.    O  welcome,  Ganymede! 

Shout. 
GANYMEDE. 

0  laugh,  you  idle  rogues,  but  first, 

1  come  to  seek  the  great  god  Pan, 

To  bear  him  word  from  Jove  and  take 
His  tidings  to  Olympus'  throne. 
Where  bides  he  now? 

SATYRS* 

He  comes,  he  comes! 

Enter  PAN. 
Hail,  Pan,  hail! 
God  of  the  hills  and  trees, 
Lord  of  the  rolling  leas, 
Bow  then  each  leafy  limb, 
Flowerets  lift  up  to  him! 


12  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  I 

Rock,  wood  and  plain. 
Homage  again! 
Hail,  Pan,  hail! 
Hail,  Pan,  hail! 

PAN. 

Well  met,  O  merry  mates.     I  see 
An  old  familiar  here.    What  news 
From  great  Olympus'  halls?    And  where 
Is  Mercury — you're  in  his  place? 

GANYMEDE. 

Swift-footed  one,  he  westward  flies 
To  strain  his  vision  o'er  the  seas 
Far  rolling  to  the  ends  of  earth, 
And  thund'ring  with  the  doom  of  Time 
Beyond  the  dim  Hesperides. 

PAN. 

What  seeks  he  in  that  wave-worn  void? 
GANYMEDE. 

An  answer  to  the  riddle  grim 
That  daunts  Olympus;  whence  the  tramp 
Of  alien  feet;  the  mutter  vague 
That  sighing  comes  with  ev'ry  breath 
Of  sulky-curling  altar  smoke. 

PAN. 

A  longer,  harder  way  methinks 
His  winged  feet  will  tread  before 
He  plumbs  that  question  to  its  depths. 
You  bring  no  other  news? 

GANYMEDE,  confidentially. 

Why,  yes, 

Draw  near,  I  really  should  not  breathe 
A  word,  but  Heaven's  power  doth  wane, 
I  think,  for  only  yesterday 
While  Venus  combed  her  flowing  hair, 
She  plucked  one  out  as  silver  gray 
As  Luna's  glance  athwart  the  sea! 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  13 

PAN. 

O  fateful  thread!    You  gossip  well; 
What  more? 

GANYMEDE. 

And  did  you  know  that  Jove — 
Nay  closer  come,  I'll  whisper  this — 
That  great  Jove's  thunder  weak  has  grown 
And  scarce  can  shake  the  hills? 

Distant  peal  of  thunder  heard.    PAN  laughs,  SATYRS  and  GANY 
MEDE  start,  the  latter  guiltily. 

GANYMEDE. 

O  mighty  Jove,  forgive  my  jest! 
PAN. 

Hast  any  more  to  tell? 

GANYMEDE. 

Nay  none. 

How  fares  the  realm  of  rustling  oaks 
And  lily-bosomed  meads? 

PAN. 

O  but  indifferent  well; 
The  gods  cannot  more  feeble  grow 
Than  faith  among  the  people  here 
Who  scoff  and  sad  neglect  our  shrines. 
But  worse  than  all,  these  dreadful  Gauls, 
Who  like  a  black  cloud  o'er  the  sun, 
Came  from  the  north  to  shroud  the  world 
In  savage  gloom  and  woe,  are  mad 
Again  with  conquest-lust  and  threat 
Their  neighbor  Greeks,  half  friendly  grown 
In  months  of  doubtful  peace.    They  sow 
Wild  faiths  with  grewsome  rites;  their  priests 
Are  bloodier  than  their  chiefs — O  Jove, 
With  lightnings  from  thy  awful  hand 
Transfix  this  impious  horde! 

Distant  thunder  heard  again. 


14  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  I 

SATYRS  shout. 

He  hears! 

GANYMEDE. 

Ay,  Pan,  Olympus  too  has  seen 
The  vengeful  Druids  urge  their  tribes 
To  war  and  pillage  with  the  hope 
To  raise  themselves  by  turmoil's  reign; 
And  list — Jove's  brow  grows  seamed  and  worn. 

PAN. 

Ay,  may  it  well.     It  were  enough 
To  throw  the  forest  folk  in  fear 
To  have  these  warriors  camped  nigh, 
Our  groves  polluted  and  our  streams 
Denied,  but  comes  there  now  besides 
A  brazen  knave,  barbarian, 
No  one  knows  whence,  and  steals  a  farm 
Just  where  the  fields  the  forest  join, 
And  falls  to  cutting  trees  by  scores 
And  hundreds  at  a  time.     Ah  me, 
The  Dryads  pale,  then  droop  and  die, 
The  wood-folk  grieve,  yet  hews  he  still. 

GANYMEDE. 
O  wretch  to  live  on  tears  and  death ' 

PAN. 

His  name  is  Andraeon — 

SATYRS. 

Accurst 
Be  Andraeon  and  all  his  line! 

PAN. 

Who  sees  the  pine  tree's  graceful  height 
And  gloating  plots  its  crashing  fall, 
Who  hears  unmoved  the  rustling  leaves 
Of  hoary  oaks  and  with  cruel  ax 
Their  whispers  stills — O  blind  and  deaf 
Is  he! 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  15 

SATYRS. 

Ay,  woe  to  Andraeon; 
Alas,  the  Dryads  gone!    O  woe! 

PAN. 

But  come,  what  boots  it  thus  to  mope, 
The  earth's  as  sweet  as  e're  to-day; 
While  sunny  skies  do  counsel  hope, 
It  best  behooves  the  world  to  play. 
And,  Ganymede,  lest  you  depart 
Disheartened  by  our  faces  long, 
I'll  try  if  rude  and  rustic  art 
Can  cheer  you  with  a  snatch  of  song. 

Takes  his  pipes. 

MYLAS. 

0  sing  the  song  of  Syrinx  fair! 
SATYRS. 

Ay,  master,  sing! 

GANYMEDE. 

I  beg  you  do. 

PAN. 

When  first  the  boughs  burst  with  the  promise  of  Spring, 
In  the  youth  of  the  world,  now  long  taken  wing, 
As  I  sped  at  the  dawn  down  a  path  dewy  bright 

1  came  all  at  once  on  a  wonderful  sight. 

Just  over  the  copse  in  the  meadow's  lush  grass 
With  her  arms  full  of  bloom  stood  a  radiant  lass; 
O  her  hair  was  the  wraith  of  the  westering  sun, 
And  her  eyes  held  the  glance  that  her  beauty  had  won. 

"O  dazzling  vision  sent 

To  shake  a  god's  content 

Pray  hark  to  me!" 

She  never  spoke  but  sighed, 

And  e'er  the  soft  blush  died, 

Swift-flown  had  she. 

Where  close  the  pines  tower  by  torrent  and  steep, 
Through  oak-studded  fields  and  by  mountain  lakes  deep, 


1 6  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  I 

The  maiden  fled  on,  nor  answered  my  hail 
Till  a  stream  barred  the  way  in  a  wide,  heathy  vale. 
"O  tarry,  sweet  spirit;  though  shaggy  my  mien, 
The  god  of  the  greenwood  can  make  thee  its  queen." 
Then  paling,  she  cried  to  the  flood  at  her  feet: 
"O  Naiads  pure  hearted,  your  aid  I  entreat." 

I  thought  her  waist  to  clasp, 

She  trembled  at  my  grasp, 

But  tardy  I! 

For  where  I  held  a  maid 

A  clump  of  marsh-reeds  swayed 

And  breathed  a  sigh. 

"O  reeds  of  the  river,  sweet  Syrinx's  soul 

Is  lost  in  thy  tissue, — then  echo  my  dole." 

I  bound  them  together,  wind- flu  ted  they  spoke 

And  the  soul  of  the  maiden  in  melody  woke. 

O  pipes  of  my  fancy  that  soothe  or  inspire, 

How  sweeter  than  Orpheus'  or  Amphion's  lyre! 

Whose  notes  sounded  cold  with  the  throb  of  the  strings; 

From  a  heart  ever  beating  thy  rhapsody  springs. 

Where  lisping  runnels  drip 

From  mossy-bearded  lip 

Of  wrinkled  stone, 

When  dull  my  spirit  grows, 

Or  weighed  with  leaden  woes, 

I  pipe  alone. 

GANYMEDE. 

Adieu,  kind  Pan,  Jt  were  best  to  pass 
With  melody  like  thine  in  ear. 

Goes  o/  slowly. 
PAN. 

O  speed  you  well. 

Loud  noise  and  shouts  sound  outside. 
What  rout  is  this? 

Enter  two  SATYRS  leading  ALIDA. 
ALIDA. 

O  free  a  wretched  maid,  I  beg, 
Who  naught  would  harm ! 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  17 

FIRST  SATYR. 

A  kiss,  sweet  lass, 
Were  full  reward  for  guiding  you 
To  Folly's  bower. 

SECOND  SATYR. 

Ay,  ay,  a  kiss! 

ALIDA,  turning  to  large  laurel  tree. 

O  goddess  hid  within,  awake, 

A  maiden  pleads  a  maiden's  right, 

O  take  me  to  thy  leafy  arms, 

And  rid  me  of  these  leering  rogues. 

DRYADS  appear  in  tree  tops. 
SATYRS  to  PAN. 

No,  no,  we  claim  her  for  our  prize, 

The  fairest  nymph  e'er  graced  the  wood. 

THERA. 

Diana,  hark,  a  suppliant  calls, 
And  ruthless  hands  her  waist  entwine, 
Release  her  still  unfettered  soul — 
Our  trunks  do  many  such  conceal. 

ALIDA. 

O  vision  bright,  that  hope  doth  light — 
PAN. 

Peace  all — unhand  her  knaves,  ay,  cringe ! 

Our  life  is  rough,  but  we  must  know 

The  precious  from  the  dross  we  find, 

And  knowing,  keep  our  courses  true. 

SATYRS  release  ALIDA. 
ALIDA. 

O  god  or  man,  thou'rt  merciful, 

My  more  than  grateful  thanks — 

Kneels  before  PAN. 

PAN  raising  her. 

Not  so 

'Tis  I  must  thank  you  for  yourself 
Who  binds  us  all  by  sight  of  thee. 


1 8  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  I 

To  SATYRS. 

But  hence,  you  rascals  rude,  begone!  SATYRS  run  off. 

And  now  fair  maid  so  far  afield, 
I  bid  you  tell  why  come  you  here. 
ALIDA. 

The  wilderness  hath  many  lures 

To  draw  my  fancy  far, 

The  dimpling  knolls,  the  windy  moors 

To  me  dear  comrades  are; 

For  every  flower  beside  the  trail 

Doth  smile  on  me  so  bright, 

The  columbine  and  lily  pale 

Both  fill  me  with  delight. 

I  know  each  bloom  on  your  blossomed  boughs, 

Each  violet  shy  I  love; 

But  most  I  seek  the  voice  that  soughs 

Through  the  pine  trees'  tops  above. 

Full,  free,  with  lilting  swing 

To  my  soul  on  Zephyr's  wing, 

Comes  the  message  all  will  know : 

"Love  shall  rule  the  world  below." 

Ay,  Love  is  king  o'er  all. 

The  lark  upwhirring  from  the  corn 

Doth  whistle  me  to  wake; 

The  black-birds,  acolytes  of  morn, 

Raise  paeans  from  the  brake. 

So  from  the  farmhouse  drear  I  flee 

To  where  the  runnel  purls 

In  shallows  dancing  to  the  sea, 

Or  down  the  granite  hurls 

A  diamond-studded  limpid  veil 

To  hide  a  Naiad's  face. 

And  clear  I  catch  the  whispered  tale 

As  wild  the  waters  race. 

Full,  free,  with  lilting  swing 

To  my  soul  on  Zephyr's  wing 

Comes  the  message  all  will  know: 

"Love  shall  rule  the  world  below." 

Ay,  Love  is  king  o'er  all. 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  19 

While  ALIDA  speaks  DRYADS  descend  from  tree  tops,  and  with 

rapt  attention,  slowly  draw  near  and  surround  her. 
THERA. 

The  wood  hath  won  its  own;  ah  sweet, 

We  take  thee  to  our  hearts.    Thy  soul 

Is  but  an  oriole  untamed 

And  exiled  from  its  branch. 

FIRST  DRYAD. 

A  rose 
Un wilted  in  the  dust. 

PAN. 

Nay,  best, 

A  maid  most  fair  and  yet  unspoiled. 
What  is  thy  name? 

ALIDA. 

Alida,  sir, 
My  sire  is  Andraeon — 

DRYADS  scream. 

O  woe!  Disappear  among  trees. 

ALIDA. 

What  have  I  done  to  so  offend 

The  gentle  band? 

PAN 

'Tis  scarce  your  fault. 

Aside. 

Immortal  gods,  what  fate  grotesque 
Gave  such  a  child  to  such  a  sire? 
The  buzzard  parent  of  the  dove, 
The  iris  sprung  from  mould'ring  slime 
Were  not  so  weird! 

Your  father's  hand  To  ALIDA 

Much  ill  has  done  the  forest  folk, 
And  many  a  glade  lies  stripped  and  bare 
Where  fairy  feet  were  wont  to  trip; 
And  many  a  Dryad's  heart  is  still 
That  fluttered  with  the  vanished  leaves. 
And  so  his  name's  a  poisoned  dart 
To  every  sylvan  ear. 


20  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  I 

ALIDA. 

Too  true 

Your  charge!    O  pity  me — I'd  spare 
The  smallest  twig,  but  weak  am  I 
To  stay  my  father's  ruthless  ax. 
Each  tree  he  fells  seems  to  uproot 
Some  fiber  twined  about  my  heart; 
But  deaf  his  ear  to  plaint  of  mine 
When  gold's  the  stake  and  trade  is  nigh. 

PAN. 

A  forest  curse  lies  o'er  his  roof — 
'Twere  hard  to  leave  the  blight  on  thee. 

ALIDA. 

O  call  them  back,  if  you  have  power, 

I'll  plead  my  innocence  to  them, 

And  to  the  great  god  Pan  himself 

If  he  would  heed. 
PAN. 

Enough,  Alida, 

Pan  has  already  heard —          ALIDA  starts  back,  a  frighted. 
Fear  not 

Nor  flee,  but  to  my  words  attend. 

As  sweet  to  the  ear  sounds  thy  plea, 

As  at  twilight  the  song  of  the  thrush, 

And  from  part  in  this  baseness  thou'rt  free, 

Though  I'm  loath  thy  entreaty  to  hush. 
ALIDA. 

O  then  praise  not  the  love  that  I  hold, 

Who  can  breathe  but  the  breath  of  the  pines, 

For  the  heart  in  my  bosom  were  cold 

If  the  wood  folk  forbade  me  their  shrines. 
PAN. 

Nay  a  love  like  thine  own  is  too  rare 

For  the  Dryads  to  cast  it  away, 

But  as  wood-god  I  ask  that  you  swear 

To  strive  the  destruction  to  stay. 


Act  I  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  21 


ALIDA. 

O  Diana  this  vow  do  I  raise: 

All  my  life  will  I  labor  to  save 

Each  green  bower  where  the  checkered  light  plays; 

If  I  fail,  let  thy  nymphs  deck  my  grave. 
PAN. 

'Tis  well;  now  ere  you  leave  the  glade 

Draw  near  and  take  my  gift,  sweet  maid. 

ALIDA  approaches. 

Water,  wood,  and  blood  that  flows 

Warm  and  cold — fowl,  fish  and  beast, 

Moss  that  hangs  and  bud  that  grows, 

Garnered  from  the  west  and  east, 

Shrub  of  frost  and  tropic  bloom, 

Eagle  swift  and  venomed  snake, 

Wolves  that  haunt  the  forest's  gloom — 

All  that  live  and  breathe,  awake ! 

All  who  hold  great  Pan  in  awe 

Harken  to  the  forest  law! 

Mark  I  now  this  maiden  fair       Makes  sign  on  ALIDA'S  brow . 

Thus  her  sacredness  declare, 

Thrice  I  write  to  signify 

What  harms  her  shall  straightway  die. 
ALIDA. 

O  high  your  gift  exalts  my  soul — 

Diana,  spur  me  to  my  goal! 
PAN  and  Chorus  of  DRYADS  and  SATYRS  unseen. 

All  who  hold  great  Pan  in  awe, 

Harken  to  the  forest  law! 
PAN. 

Mark  I  now  this  maiden  fair 

Thus  her  sacredness  declare, 

Thrice  I  write  to  signify 

What  harms  her  shall  straightway  die. 
Chorus. 

All  who  hold  great  Pan  in  awe, 

Harken  to  the  forest  law!  ALIDA  passes  into  the  wood. 

CURTAIN. 


22  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  II 


ACT  II 

SCENE:  ANDRAEON'S  cot  in  a  clearing  in  the  forest.  TIME: 
Afternoon  of  the  same  day.  Along  the  edges  of  the  clearing 
tree  trunks  are  piled,  with  clumps  still  standing  of  pines 
cedar  and  fir.  ANDRAEON'S  cot,  a  low  thatched  structure, 
is  at  the  left.  Axes  and  implements  of  husbandry  are  scat 
tered  before  it.  In  front  of  the  cot  are  a  rough  table  and  stools. 
A  high  hedge  screens  the  view  to  the  right.  ANDRAEON  and 
PHILIDIAS  are  sitting  opposite  each  other  at  the  table. 

Enter  WOODMEN  and  CHARCOAL-BURNERS,  bearing  axes. 
Chorus  of  WOODMEN  and  CHARCOAL-BURNERS. 
Pitch  pine  and  cedar  bough, 
Heart  of  oak  on  ferny  howe, 
Crashing  through  the  ravished  shade 
By  our  shining  axes  made, 
Burn  slow,  lurid  glow 
In  the  murky  pits  below 
Till  the  swirling  smoke  wreaths  blow 
The  fame  of  the  woodman's  trade. 

LEADER. 

Then  strike,  brothers,  strike — 
Thy  blow  to  the  bark  deliver. 

CHORUS. 

Strike,  brothers,  strike — 
O  see  the  tall  trunk  quiver. 

LEADER. 

A  tang  of  resin  in  the  air — 

CHORUS. 
Strike,  brothers,  strike. 

LEADER. 

And  by  my  swinging  ax  I'll  swear — 
CHORUS. 

Strike,  brothers,  strike. 

Then  give  us  sturdy  saplings  bending 


Ad  II  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  23 

'Neath  our  strokes  that  swift  descending 

Fill  the  air  with  din  unending — 

Strike,  brothers,  strike. 
CHORUS. 

Dripping  sap  and  withered  leaves, 

Winnowed  by  the  wind  that  grieves 

Down  the  forest  lanes  at  night, 

Wedges  keen  and  axes  bright — 

All  hail,  rouse  the  vale 

Till  the  echo  swells  the  gale; 

Brawn  and  steel  shall  e'er  prevail, 

And  ours  is  the  arm  of  might. 
LEADER. 

Then  strike,  brothers,  strike, 

Thy  blow  to  the  bark  deliver. 
CHORUS. 

Strike,  brothers,  strike, 

O  see  the  tall  trunk  quiver. 
LEADER. 

A  tang  of  resin  in  the  air — 

CHORUS. 

Strike,  brothers,  strike. 
LEADER. 

And  by  my  swinging  ax  I'll  swear — 
CHORUS. 

Strike,  brothers,  strike. 

Then  give  us  sturdy  saplings  bending 

'Neath  our  strokes  that  swift  descending 

Fill  the  air  with  din  unending — 

Strike,  brothers,  strike. 
ANDRAEON. 

Come,  fellows!  to  the  woods  with  you. 
LEADER. 

Aye,  sir,  we  haste  away. 
CHORUS. 

Aye,  aye. 

Exeunt  WOODMEN  and  CHARCOAL-BURNERS 


24  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  II 

PHILIDIAS. 

You  think  your  charcoal  made  of  gold? 

Three  staters  for  a  cord,  indeed! 
ANDRAEON. 

'Twere  cheap  at  thrice  the  price,  I  swear 

No  other  wood  you'll  find  so  hard 

Nor  kindling  half  so  hot  a  flame! 
PHILIDIAS. 

Tush,  tush,  I  know  a  dozen  kilns 

Much  closer  home,  of  better  grade. 
ANDRAEON. 

And  still  you  journey  to  my  door? 
PHILIDIAS. 

Nay,  nay,  I  always  pride  myself 

On  buying  of  an  old-time  friend; 

Two  staters  for  a  cord  I'll  give. 
ANDRAEON,  aside. 

A  plague  of  locusts  on  the  knave — 

O  if  you  press  me  hard,  I'll  split 

The  difference,  add  a  half  to  two. 

Enter  ALIDA  and  THERA  pausing  behind  the  hedge. 

A  LID  A. 

O  why  is  the  bracken  so  blithe  as  we  near  it, 
The  robins  light  warbling,  the  boughs  all  abloom, 
The  butterfly  darting — O  shy,  joyous  spirit, 
His  gauzy  hues  lighting  the  dim  leafy  gloom? 

THERA. 

Your  vision  in  blessing,  the  gods  have  made  brighter, 
All  beauty  in  living  to  you  is  revealed, 
The  dawn  is  more  rosy,  the  summer  winds  lighter 
And  rarer  the  glory  on  mountain  and  field. 

ALIDA. 

O  why  like  the  sea  do  the  changing  greens  shimmer, 
Their  olives  and  emeralds  flash  fire  or  grow  dull? 
Ye  laurels  bright  shining  and  cedar  groves  dimmer, 
O  rustle  forever  my  senses  to  lull. 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  25 

THERA. 

In  green  garb  his  favorites  the  wood  god  disguises, 
His  love,  all  embracing,  lends  various  hues, 
And  he  who  is  worthy  fresh  beauty  surprises 
Till  numbers  bewild'ring  forbid  him  to  choose. 

ALIDA. 

Winds  off  the  heather  hills 

Waving  the  broom, 

Blow  where  your  fancy  wills, 

Shedding  perfume. 

Straight  to  the  heart  oppressed, 

Potent  to  calm, 

Him  who  from  strife  would  rest, 

Give  of  thy  balm. 

Waft  then  to  dungeon  cell 

Mountain-sweet  air, 

And  the  soul's  turmoil  quell — 

Melted  in  prayer. 

ALIDA  advances  from  behind  the  hedge. 

ALIDA,  waves  to  THERA. 

Sweet  guide,  my  thanks — safe  speed  you  hence. 
THERA. 

Ah,  little  sister,  fare  thee  well. 

Disappears  in  the  wood. 
ANDRAEON. 

My  child,  whence  came  you  through  the  wood, 

And  who  just  slunk  behind  that  trunk 

With  all  these  nods  and  signs  to  you? 

You  know  I'll  have  no  mystery. 
ALIDA. 

'Twas  but  a  Dryad  came  with  me — 

I  rambled  deep  among  the  groves 

And  wearied,  almost  lost  my  way; 

With  song  and  smiles  she  led  me  home. 
ANDRAEON. 

A  Dryad!  bah!  some  hussy  sly 

Imposing  on  your  foolish  mind! 


26  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  II 

('Twas  well  you  had  no  gold  along). 

Let  not  each  wand'ring  ne'er-do-well 

Pass  current  on  her  word  with  you 

For  goddess,  Dryad  or  the  like — 

They're  all  a  clever,  cheating  crew! 
PHILIDIAS 

Indeed,  I  find  much  sense  in  that; 

Why  once  when  I — 
ALIDA. 

O  father,  no! 

My  life  I'd  venture  on  her  truth 

Who  darted  down  the  path  just  now; 

Her  heart  lies  in  a  green  bay  tree, 

And  e'en  its  rustling  leaves  give  out 

The  melody  of  her  soul. 
ANDRAEON. 

Peace!    Hush! 

I  tell  you  there  are  no  such  things! 
ALIDA. 

O  my  dear  father,  could  you  but  see 

All  the  fair  realms  that  surround  you! 

Lift  up  your  eyes  to  yon  cloud-hooded  tree, 

Does  not  its  grandeur  confound  you? 

Go  like  a  little  child  into  the  wood, 

Reverently  tuned  to  its  measure, 

Then  in  some  dim  aisle  the  awe  of  it  should 

Fire  you  its  beauty  to  treasure. 

Passion  and  greediness,  fall  from  his  eyes! 

Then  might  the  wood-folk  enthrall  him; 

He  who  is  blind  can  ne'er  hope  to  surprise 

Wonders  whose  grace  would  appal  him. 
ANDRAEON. 

And  still  of  nymphs  and  fays  you  prate! 

What  has  bewitched  your  senses  small? 

Have  I  not  eyes,  can  I  not  hear? 

Is  my  hair  grey  to  no  account? 

My  girl,  I  tell  you  once  for  all, 

There's  naught  but  lumber  in  the  woods. 


Act  1 1  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  27 

ALIDA. 

Ah  well,  we  speak  in  alien  tongues, 
But  still  one  boon  of  you  I  ask, 
Are  there  not  virgin  clearings  here, 
Would  fruitful  grow  beneath  your  plow? 
O  leave  the  scarred  and  bleeding  groves 
And  husband  fields  of  golden  grain. 

ANDRAEON. 

Why  labor  I  with  hoe  and  spade 
To  coax  a  crop  between  the  stumps, 
When  with  my  ax  I  quicker  make 
Three  times  as  much  and  easier  too? 

ALIDA. 
But  father  if— 

ANDRAEON. 

Enough,  enough, 
It  ill  becomes  a  foolish  girl 
To  thus  debate — pray  leave  such  things 
To  wiser  heads,  a  woman's  place 
You'll  please  to  keep. 

To  PHILIDIAS. 
And  now  you  say — 
ALIDA. 

O  gods  my  mother  bade  me  hold, 
My  vow  to  you  I've  kept  in  vain. 
Diana,  lead  a  falt'ring  maid! 

ANDRAEON. 

How  now,  again?    Alida,  stay! 
Until  I  die  I'll  loud  proclaim 
With  all  the  force  my  tongue  can  give, 
There  are  no  gods,  there  are  no  gods! 

Loud  clap  of  thunder  sounds,  all  start.    ALIDA  raises  her  hands 
to  heavens  in  supplication. 

PAN  in  the  distance. 

"Come  away,  come  away," 
Bobolink's  singing, 


28  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  II 

Come  away,  come  away, 

Whither  he's  winging 

Out  of  the  lilac  sprays  into  the  sky, 

High  o'er  the  meadow  his  raptures  to  try. 
Enter  PAN  disguised  as  a  peddler,  in  a  cap  and  long  cloak,  with 

small  satchel  hanging  from  his  shoulder. 
PAN,  advancing. 

"Come  away,  come  away," 

E'er  the  brook  chatters; 

Come  away,  come  away, 

What  in  life  matters 

While  in  the  purple  pools  speckled  trout  gleam, 

And  the  azalea  sways  low  o'er  the  stream? 

Come  away,  come  away, 

Who's  for  a  ramble? 

Come  away,  come  away, 

Where  the  elves  gambol, 

Threading  the  maze  of  a  sylvan  quadrille 

While  other  sprites  fairy  nectar  distill. 

Good  sirs,  all  hail,  and  you,  fair  lass, 

Who'll  have  a  song  from  out  my  pack? 

An  obolus  will  buy  each  gem, 

A  martial  theme,  a  minor  air, 

An  epic  from  the  Pythian  games, 

A  hymn  to  Jove,  a  lover's  lay — 

Come  all  and  name  your  choice. 
ANDRAEON. 

Begone ! 

No  vagabonds  we'll  harbor  here, 

We're  honest  folk  about  this  farm. 
PAN. 

Nay,  goodman,  hear  a  song;  they  say 

My  melodies  would  marble  melt, 

And  harmony  is  heaven's  child, — 
ANDRAEON. 

What!  words  with  me,  thou  idle  knave? 

I'll  give  you  manners  for  your  tunes! 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  29 

Raises  his  staff  angrily,  and  brings  it  down  over  PAN'S  head,  but 
it  bounds  of  without  touching  him  and  falls  to  the  ground. 

PAN,  throwing  of  cloak  and  tossing  cap  aside. 

And  do  you  still  deny  the  gods? 
ALIDA,  falling  to  her  knees. 

0  we  are  lost!    Pray,  father,  pray! 
Your  impious  act  atone !     Tis  Pan, 
The  great  god  Pan! 

To  PAN,  kneeling. 
0  mighty  one, 

Whose  breath  bows  trees  like  waving  grain, 
Forgive  us  mortals  ignorant! 

PAN. 

Nay,  nay,  thou  hast  no  need  to  sue. 
ANDRAEON. 

Come,  come,  no  sorcery  on  me ! 

1  know  you  for  a  charlatan, 
Ay,  frown! 

To  PHILIDIAS. 
Now  see  me  pack  him  hence. 

Advances  toward  PAN. 

ALIDA. 

O  father,  art  thou  mad  at  last? 
He'll  blast  you  where  you  stand! 

ANDRAEON  pauses. 

Be  still! 

No  smug  magician  with  his  tricks 
Can  beard  me  on  my  farm.     A  god? 
A  fig  for  all  your  phantom  gods! 

PAN. 

Spreading  oak  and  needled  pifion, 
Tranquil  in  the  sultry  air, 
Loose  your  leaves  upon  my  signal, 
Shower  them  on  the  scoffer  there. 


30  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  II 

Waves  hand  aloft;  leaves  from  trees  overhead  fall  in  showers 
about  ANDRAEON  until  PAN  lowers  his  arm,  when  the  fall 
ceases.  PAN  retires  slowly. 

And  do  you  still  deny  the  gods? 
ANDRAEON. 

There  are  no  gods,  there  are  no  gods! 
PAN. 

Breezes  out  of  far  Arcadia, 

Blow  no  balm  to  yonder  churl; 

Blight  the  breath  within  his  nostrils, 

And  a  tempest  round  him  whirl! 

Every  tree  within  the  forest, 
Every  shrub  upon  the  fell, 
Smite  the  smiter  of  my  kingdom! 
Torrents,  boom  to  sound  his  knell. 

Panther,  ambush  for  his  coming, 
Viper,  lurk  beside  his  path, 
Flying,  creeping,  beast  or  monster, 
Haste  ye  to  assuage  my  wrath. 

Wretched  poltroon  doomed  to  horrors 
Such  as  never  tortured  men, 
Look!  thy  fate  is  close  impending, 
Lost  ye'll  be  to  mortal  ken ! 

Exit  PAN. 

ALIDA  flees  shrieking  into  cottage;  ANDRAEON  glances  uneasily 
around  and  above  him;  PHILIDIAS  who  during  curse  has 
retreated  into  the  trees,  returns  fearfully  to   his  seat  at 
table. 
ANDRAEON. 

A  knave  most  queer,  think  you? 
PHILIDIAS. 

Indeed 

I  scarce  know  what  to  say;  sometimes 
I  wonder  if  you're  right,  perhaps — 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  31 

ANDRAEON. 

O  pshaw  'twas  but  a  wizard  sly 
And  bolder  with  his  tricks  than  most. 

PHILIDIAS. 
I'm  not  so  sure — 

Enter  SILEN  running,  stops  in  front  of  table,  wringing  his  hands 
and  gesticulating  wildly. 

SILEN. 

I'm  ruined  quite, 
Ye  gods,  ye  gods,  is  there  no  law, 
No  justice  left  in  Greece?    O  woe, 
O  woe. 

ANDRAEON. 

How  now?    What's  this? 
PHILIDIAS. 

Who's  dead? 
SILEN. 

O  woe  is  me, — my  inn,  you  know 
My  little  inn  where  neatly  ranged 
The  bottles  row  on  row,  and  hams — 

ANDRAEON. 

Yes,  yes,  we  do  not  wish  to  buy 
The  place,— what  fell? 

SILEN. 

O  sirs,  just  now 

A  horde  of  ruffian  Gauls  swooped  down 
And  swept  it  clean  as  last  year's  bones; 
The  savages  drained  every  drop, 
And  smashed  my  kegs  and  beat  my  slave, 
And  every  shred  of  meat  and  bread 
They  greedy  gobbled  down.    O  woe! 

ANDRAEON. 

Did  you  not  charge  them  for  their  fare? 


32  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  II 

SlLEN. 

I'd  ne'er  have  served  another  guest 
If  I  had  hinted  that  they  pay; 
They  vowed  to  skewer  me  on  my  spits 
And  crisp  me  like  a  capon  fat. 

PHILIDIAS,  aside. 

My  money-bags,  my  money-bags! 
'Twere  well  to  get  you  out  of  here. 

Glances  about  apprehensively. 
ANDRAEON. 

And  you  stood  by  and  let  the  rogues 
Despoil  you  so?    I'd  like  to  meet 
The  Gaul  who'd  dare  to  plunder  me, 
Or  any  Greek  half  worth  the  name, 
Nor  sapped  by  this  degenerate  age. 

SILEN. 

And  so?  How  long  since  you  a  Greek 
Have  grown,  who  came  but  yesterday 
No  one  knows  whence? 

PHILIDIAS. 

Indeed  that's  true. 

ANDRAEON. 

You  publican,  you  mock  my  blood? 
Why  fool,  I'm  glad  I  am  no  Greek; 
To  tell  the  truth  my  line  is  sprung 
From  mighty  peoples  of  the  north 
Superior  to  all  you  Greeks — 

SILEN. 

No  doubt! 
ANDRAEON. 

I've  scant  use  for  the  race, 
And  oftentimes  I  sore  regret 
I  ever  took  a  Greek  to  wife, 
Though  that  can  scarce  be  mended  now 
Since  she's  been  dead  this  ten  year  gone. 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  33 

But  to  repeat:    O  woe  betide 
The  blust'ring  beggar  of  a  Gaul 
Who  dares  to  cross  my  path. 

Fills  flagon  from  jug  of  small  ale  and  drains  it. 
SILEN. 

'Tis  like  you'll  have  your  wish  and  soon, 
The  signs  point  sure  to  troublous  times. 
The  Gallic  camp  is  all  astir, 
No  one  knows  what  they  plot  to  do. 

PHILIDIAS. 
I  think  so  too. 

ANDRAEON. 

Well,  let  them  come; 
The  first  who  wanders  on  my  farm 
Had  best  beware ! 

Raises  flagon  to  his  lips;  enter  ARDORIX  in  war  array,  pauses 
before  ANDRAEON. 

ARDORIX. 

Ho,  Andraeon! 

All  start  violently,  ANDRAEON  shrinks  back  a  bit  and  drops 
flagon  untasted.    All  remain  silent  for  a  space. 

ANDRAEON  to  SILEN  and  PHILIDIAS. 
Well,  well,  this  rogue  is  one  of  them; 
I'll  make  short  work  of  him! 

Advances  toward  ARDORIX. 
How  now? 

Aside. 
Come,  come,  I  like  him  not. 

Retreats  to  table,  filling  flagon  again  and  draining  it. 
Just  watch  me  send  him  on  the  run. 
SILEN. 
Go  on,  we  watch. 

PHILIDIAS. 

Ay,  cudgel  him. 


34  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  II 

ARDORIX. 
Come,  Andraeon! 

ANDRAEON. 

Yes,  yes,  I  come — 
No,  no,  I  mean  what  brings  you  here? 

Advancing  and  retreating  with  each  word. 
ARDORIX. 

I'll  tell  you  soon  enough — come  close. 
SILEN. 

Now  to  him  strong! 
ANDRAEON. 

Just  give  me  time. 
SILEN. 

You're  more  in  need  of  fighting  blood. 
PHILIDIAS  to  SILEN. 

Perhaps  he'll  warm. 
SILEN. 

Ay,  when  he's  flogged. 
ANDRAEON,  crossing  to  ARDORIX. 

You  called  my  name? 
ARDORIX. 

Ay,  farmer,  twice; 
I  come  to  levy  make  on  you 
Of  grain  and  fodder  for  my  camp. 
The  boors  about  have  played  us  false 
And  we  are  short  for  horse  and  man. 
So  ere  to-morrow's  setting  sun 
Ten  wains  have  ready  for  my  tribe — 

ALIDA  appears  in  the  doorway  of  the  cottage,  pausing  on  thres 
hold  at  sight  of  the  intruder.     ARDORIX  retreats  a  step 
respectfully  and  a  look  of  recognition  passes  between  him 
and  ALIDA  which  is  perceived  by  ANDRAEON. 
ANDRAEON. 

How  now,  Alida,  what  means  this? 
You  friendly  with  a  plund'ring  thief 
And  savage,  brawling — ? 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  35 

ALIDA,  advancing  a  step. 

Father,  stay! 

ARDORIX,  springing  to  ANDRAEON'S  side  in  a  white  heat. 
What,  beard  a  Gallic  chief  like  this!— 
Ah,  thank  thy  daughter's  presence  here 
That  thy  rash  blood  stains  not  the  grass; 
Their  bones  bleach  many  in  the  sun 
On  far  Thessalian  hill  and  moor, 
Who  dared  to  thus  insult  my  tribe! 

Out  of  the  heart  of  the  north  I  come, 
I  and  my  broadsword  Frozen  Fire, 
Bred  with  the  spear  and  the  rolling  drum, 
Battle-lust  bore  me  and  Might  was  my  sire. 

As  when  the  thunder  assails  the  glen, 

Heard  ye  the  tramp  of  Gallic  feet? 

Saw  ye  the  myriad  fighting  men, 

Wolves  on  the  foray  and  scenting  their  meat? 

Swift  as  the  eagle  that  sweeps  the  blue 
Flashes  our  sword  of  avenging  wrath; 
Born  to  the  earth  we  but  take  our  due; 
Coward  and  caitiff  avoid  our  path! 

Sworn  to  trie  cause  of  our  blood  and  bone 
Under  the  oaks  with  midnight  rite; 
Only  a  death  for  a  death  can  atone; 
Thirst  ye  my  blade  and  the  foemen  requite! 

ALIDA. 

Ah,  hold  no  anger  toward  my  sire. 
ARDORIX. 

Indeed  I'll  not  and  he  be  wise, 

And  link  no  more  my  name  with  thief, 

Nor  chide  you  for  a  fleeting  smile; 

For  Andraeon,  I'll  have  you  know 

Your  daughter  passed  me  on  the  path 

That  winding  seeks  the  village  well, 

Perhaps  four  times  or  five;  no  more 

She  knows  of  me. 


36  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  II 

ANDRAEON. 

Yes,  yes,  my  child 
Pray  go  within. 

ALIDA  to  ARDORIX. 

You'll  mind  your  word. 

Retires  into  cottage. 
AKDORIX. 

I  charge  you,  Andraeon,  take  care, 
Vent  not  your  spleen  on  her  for  this, 
Thrice  heavy  will  my  vengeance  be 
If  she  should  suffer  for  a  smile 
She  gave  a  chieftain  of  the  Gauls. 

ANDRAEON. 
No,  no,  I  swear. 

ARDORIX  advances  to  table,  helps  himself  to  flagon  of  ale  and 
drinks.    Spits  liquor  to  ground  contemptuously. 

Bah,  bah,  what  rot! 

TO  SlLEN. 

O,  goodman,  to  your  inn  and  draw 
A  better  bumper  from  your  vaults 
Against  my  present  coming. 

SILEN,  running. 

It  shall  be  done,    (aside)  Ye  gods,  wherefrom 

I  fain  would  know! 

Runs  of. 
PHILIDIAS,  furtively. 

I'll  go  with  you. 

Slinks  away. 
ARDORIX. 

Scant  need  have  I  to  charge  you  more, 

The  provender  you'll  not  forget; 

But  this  remember:  in  these  times 

The  woods  are  full  of  lusty  lads 

Who  make  no  jest  of  insolence — 

Guard  well  your  tongue  or  lose  it  quite. 

Small  wish  have  I  for  further  talk. 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  37 

ANDRAEON. 
The  grain  shall  be  as  you  command. 

Enters  cottage,  bowing  awkwardly. 
ARDORIX. 

This  cowed  and  cringing  mongrel  Greek 
Confusion  breeds  into  my  sense — 
That  fairest  one  his  child!  ^Ahno, 
My  brain's  awhirl,  it  cannot  be! 

Oaks  of  Be'al,  by  the  flame 
From  thy  sacred  shade  sky-wending, 
I  invoke  thy  aid  to  name 
What  upon  my  sense  descending 
Cools  the  fever  in  my  veins, 
Heavy  weighs  my  arm  once  eager. 
O  strike  off  the  unseen  chains, 
Raise  the  dread  uncanny  leaguer! 

CHORUS  of  voices,  concealed. 

'Tis  the  voice,  'tis  the  voice  of  a  maiden 

Softly  clear, 

Strangely  dear; 

And  her  breath's  like  the  wind,  honey-laden. 

'Tis  a  maiden 

That  you  fear. 

ARDORIX. 

Shall  a  Gaul  his  valor  shame 
Only  for  a  lass'  smiling, 
And  resign  a  warrior's  fame 
To  pursue  a  voice  beguiling? 
Ay  there's  witchery  afield, 
Every  quickened  sense  alarming, 
But — ye  oaks! — I  yield — I  yield, 
Fettered  by  some  demon's  charming. 

CHORUS. 

Whose  the  eye,  whose  the  brow,  that  enthrall  you? 
Fairest  aye, 
Witching  fay. 


38  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  II 

Let  the  spell  that  subdues  not  appall  you. 
Love  will  call  you, 
Own  its  sway. 

Enter  ALIDA. 
ALIDA. 

O  man  of  war  once  more  I  sue, 
Forget  the  foolish  boast,  turn  deaf 
Thy  ear  to  harmless  wrath,  be  kind. 

ARDORIX. 

What  boon  could  you  ask,  fairest  flower  of  the  forest, 
That  all  of  the  earth  would  not  hasten  to  give? 
If  death  were  the  price,  though  my  anguish  the  sorest, 
The  lure  of  thy  lips  would  forbid  me  to  live. 

ALIDA. 

Nay  'tis  but  thy  heart  that  is  touched  with  compassion, 
The  man  o'er  the  warrior  master  alone. 

ARDORIX. 

Ah  would  that  it  pleased  you  that  temper  to  fashion 
Till  fit  for  thy  presence  and  worthier  grown ! 

ALIDA. 

O  think  not  so  lightly  I  utter  my  pleading, 
The  father  beset  brings  the  daughter  to  tears. 

ARDORIX. 

Then  maiden,  through  summers  and  winters  succeeding, 
While  strong  is  my  sword-arm,  a  truce  to  thy  fears. 

ALIDA. 

No  claim  beyond  mercy  have  I  on  your  boldness, 
Your  word  for  my  earnest,  I  hold  you  no  more. 

Starts  to  retire. 
ARDORIX. 

Ah,  stay,  fair  Alida,  nor  cherish  thy  coldness, 
But  list  to  my  dreams  of  the  one  I  adore. 

ALIDA  pauses. 


Act  II  THE  PASSING  or  PAN 


39 


ARDORIX. 

On  Alpine  cliffs  a  cot  I'll  raise 
High  'mong  the  sighing  pines. 
There  will  she  dream  through  peaceful  days, 
While  blood-wet  wastes  are  mine. 
For  I  shall  win  her  plunder  rare 
From  smoking  cities'  store, 
And  she  will  wondrous  rubies  wear 
That  flashed  on  queens  of  yore. 

ALIDA. 

What  maid,  think  you,  would  joyful  view 
The  fateful  loot  of  war? 
What  bride  know  peace  or  rapture  true 
With  you  in  peril  far? 

ARDORIX. 

Though  sweet  to  me  that  future  seemed, 

Too  rude  my  speech  for  thee; 

Thou  art  the  maiden  that  I  dreamed 

Would  share  my  liberty. 

Oh  fly  with  me  when  night  enfolds 

Our  love  lit  by  the  stars, 

And  fathom  what  my  tongue  withholds 

Or  what  the  warrior  mars. 
ALIDA. 

0  no,  I  cannot  weigh  thy  plea; 
Speak  not  of  love,  O  Gaul, 

My  father's  shield  I  still  must  be 
If  threat'ning  tempests  fall. 
And  still  unto  my  gods  I  cling 
While  awful  rites  are  thine; 
My  soul  needs  not  the  eagle's  wing, 

1  kneel  at  great  Pan's  shrine. 

ARDORIX,  half  drawing  sword  from  sheath. 
Frozen-Fire,  thou  hast  not  power 
Just  to  win  a  maiden's  ruth! 
She  doth  shun  thy  flashing  truth; 
Hide  thy  edge.     O  fateful  hour!  Sheathes  sword. 


40  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Ad  II 

And  the  altars  of  my  sires 
Bathed  in  sacrificial  flood, 
She  abhors  thy  sacred  blood; 
Will  ye  smoulder  then,  O  fires? 
Then  for  honor  must  I  go 
Since  for  love  I  cannot  stay. 
But  O  maid  if  falls  a  day 
When  the  land  is  wild  with  woe, 
Know  a  Gallic  heart  is  true, 
Know  a  Gallic  arm  is  strong, 
And  if  any  do  thee  wrong, 
Frozen-Fire  shall  prove  his  rue! 

Then  fare  thee  well, 
Fairest  of  all. 

ALIDA. 

Aye,  fare  thee  well, 
Most  noble  Gaul. 

ARDORIX  darts  into  the  forest  \  ALIDA  r centers  the  cottage. 
CURTAIN. 


Act  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  41 


ACT  III 

SCENE:  A  mountainous  part  of  the  forest.  Time:  Early 
evening — one  week  later.  A  trail  comes  down  over  the 
rocks  of  a  grotto  into  which  flows  a  small  stream.  The 
woods  are  dense  and  a  large  laurel  tree  overhangs  the  pool. 

CHORUS  of  Voices  of  the  Night,  concealed. 

Out  of  the  shades  of  the  sable-winged  night, 

Out  of  the  mists  of  the  twilight's  sinking  pall, 

Hail  we  thy  hearts  though  lost  unto  thy  sight, 

Sing  we  once  more — drear  spirits  past  recall. 

Deep  in  the  mirk  of  the  never-rifting  gloom 

Yearn  we  for  light  from  the  world  we  ne'er  shall  know; 

Call  we  thy  names,  O  souls  that  chant  our  doom, 

Strike  but  one  chord  to  soothe  our  utter  woe. 

Hear  then  the  wail  of  old  friendships  turned  to  dust, 
Mingled  with  sighs  of  love-forsaken  years, 
Frankness  and  truth  o'erwhelmed  by  cruel  distrust, 
Hopes  long  submerged  in  grief,  transcending  tears, 
Promise  grown  pale  in  folly's  stifling  bower, 
Genius  denied  and  love  that  grieves  alone; 
Hark,  while  we  mourn  in  this  our  granted  hour, 
Hark,  while  the  lost  their  requiem  intone. 

Fainter,  blown  far 
Wan  figures  fade, 
Ripples  the  glade 
Grief's  avatar. 

Dying  we  thrill 
Ne'er  as  in  life, 
Sundered  from  strife, 
Hush,  we  are  still. 

Enter  ALIDA  and  MYLAS  from  the  trees. 


42  THE  PASSING  OP  PAN  Act  III 

ALIDA. 

O  weary  grows  this  upland  way, 
Where  art  thou,  father  Andraeon? 
And  e'en  the  echo  empty  sounds. 

To  MYLAS. 

0  faun,  a  word,  a  gesture  slight 
To  aid  me  in  my  quest! 

MYLAS. 

No,  no, 

1  dare  not,  lovely  maid;  the  law 
That  rules  each  leafing  twig 

Has  heavy  cursed  his  lightest  hair, 
And  I  may  only  guard  you  safe, 
No  help  lend  to  your  sire.     His  fate 
Decreed,  the  wood-folk  wait,  but  you 
Are  warded  by  a  thousand  eyes. 

ALIDA. 

Alas,  ye  gods,  I  know  not  where 
To  find  my  father  out;  the  woods 
All  of  an  instant  threat'ning  loom, 
And  he  lost  in  their  maze  a  week! 

//  gradually  grows  darker. 

But  stay — he  promised  aid  in  need — 
O  that  the  valiant  Gaul  were  nigh! 

To  MYLAS. 

YouVe  guarded  well  my  wanderings, 
Would  you  essay  a  mission  far? 

MYLAS. 

For  you — what  is  the  goal? 
ALIDA. 

You  know 

The  Gallic  camp — seek  out  the  chief 

Called  Ardorix,  and  say  I  ask, 

Nay,  say  I  quite  implore  his  aid, 

And  that  I  wait  his  coming  here. 


Act  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  43 

Aside. 

Ah  me  that  I  am  brought  to  sue 
The  simple-hearted  warrior. 

MYLAS. 

And  where,  fair  maiden  will  you  bide 
While  I  upon  your  errand  speed? 

ALIDA. 

Why  with  my  ancient  friends  the  trees. 

MYLAS. 

Nay,  hold,  'twere  better  that  you  join 
The  Dryads  of  the  laurel  groves. 

Clapping  his  hands. 
Then  hasten,  lizard-in-the-grass, 
And  rap  upon  yon  bay  tree's  roots. 

The  grass  rustles;  after  a  pause,  THERA  steps  out  of  the  laurel. 
THERA. 

Hail,  little  sister  of  the  woods. 
ALIDA. 

Ah  comrade  of  the  poppied  fields. 

MYLAS. 

Receive  this  maid  within  your  bowers, 

Safe  screen  her  till  I  come  again. 

Starting  away. 
THERA,  circling  ALIDA'S  waist  with  her  arm. 

Clasped  to  our  hearts! 

ALIDA. 

Safe  fare  thee,  faun. 

MYLAS  runs  off. 

THERA,  approaching  the  laurel-tree. 

The  doe  to  her  covert  green-masked  by  the  brake 
Springs  fondly  away  in  the  gloaming, 
The  ring-doves  the  brookside  and  forest  forsake, 
Their  whirring  wings  eagerly  homing, 


44  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  III 

The  eagle  his  eerie  descries  'cross  the  blue, 

The  fount  for  the  ocean  is  pining, 

So  kindles,  O  laurel,  my  longing  for  you, 

All  else  for  thy  warm  bark  resigning. 

Sweet  dreams  haunt  thy  canopy,  balm  for  the  heart 

Exhales  with  each  leaf's  lightest  motion, 

And  ne'er  from  thy  boughs  will  my  spirit  depart 

Till  robbed  of  thy  shelt'ring  devotion. 

Then  ope  to  my  song,  O  green  tower  of  the  wood, 

The  fairest  of  mortals  receiving 

Though  but  for  a  night,  in  our  nymphs'  sisterhood, 

Leading  ALIDA  towards  the  tree. 
Thy  spell  o'er  her  earthy  sense  weaving; 

Trunk  opens  and  ALIDA  enters  the  tree. 
Rustling  lull  to  healing  slumber, 
Harp  the  star-born  minstrel  breeze. 

ALIDA. 

Lo  the  ills  my  soul  would  cumber, 

Fade  like  islets  overseas! 

Low  plaintive  bird  note  in  the  bush. 
THERA. 

Bird  of  even,  hush  thy  sorrow, 
ALIDA. 

'Tis  a  lark  that  blinded  weeps. 
THERA. 

Wood  and  water  till  the  morrow 

Gentle  watch,  Alida  sleeps. 

Tree  trunk  closes  about  THERA.    //  grows  quite  dark.    Enter 
ANDRAEON;  comes  down  trail  and  advances  to  edge  of  grotto. 

ANDRAEON. 

Confusion  seize  this  inky  waste! 
Far  have  I  come  since  first  I  heard 
Of  this  great  horde  of  gold,  all  gold, 
Stored  by  the  gnomes  beneath  a  mount. 

Moon,  rising  behind  the  trees  begins  to  illumine  the  scene  faintly. 


Act  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  45 

If  I  but  find  it— ah,  gold,  gold! 
But  which  road  is  the  one? 

FIRST  SATYR,  popping  head  from  behind-  a  tree. 

All  roads. 

Disappearing* 

ANDRAEON,  startled,  turns. 

Who  spoke? 

SECOND  SATYR,  from  between  two  rocks. 
No  one. 

Disappears. 

ANDRAEON,  shivering. 

What  ill  forebodes? 

THIRD  SATYR,  from  a  tree  top. 

The  whiskers  of  a  mousing  cat. 

Disappears. 
FIRST  SATYR,  reappearing. 

What  road  wish  you,  old  man? 

ANDRAEON. 

What's  that? 
Perhaps  you  know  where  dwell  the  gnomes? 

FIRST  SATYR. 

Just  down  the  dell,  they  make  their  homes 

Where  first  this  torrent  runs  up  hill. 

ANDRAEON  starts  to  go  off. 
SECOND  SATYR,  appearing  behind  him. 

He  told  you  false — you  walk  until 

You  walk  no  farther.     See?    Ho,  ho! 

Mocking  laughter  on  all  sides.    ANDRAEON  pauses  confused^ 
THIRD  SATYR,  appearing  from  a  stump. 
List  not  to  them — I  only  know; 
Take  ninety  paces  to  the  right, 
But  keep  thy  left  ear  still  in  sight, 
Turn  thrice  around  but  always  face 
Thy  heels  until  you  reach  a  place 


46  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  III 

You  never  saw  before,  and  then — 
'Tis  like  you've  wandered  wrong  again. 

All  SATYRS  disappear  with  a  shout. 
ANDRAEON,  waving  his  arms  in  wild  perplexity. 
Just  down  a  creek  and  up  a  mount, 
And  right  I  turn  and  ninety  count, 
And  backward  run  and  forward  speed — 
My  head,  my  head, — you  reel  indeed! 
A  way  so  hard  I'll  seek  by  day, 
And  lie  me  here  till  morning's  ray. 

Lies  down  under  the  trees  and  falls  asleep.  Distant  thunder  and 
lightning.  A  TROGLODYTE  crawls  up  from  pool  in  grotto, 
and  steals  towards  ANDRAEON,  retreating  and  advancing 
several  times,  each  time  approaching  nearer;  others  follow 
at  short  intervals  until  eight  or  ten  have  emerged.  They 
disport  themselves  weirdly,  pointing  and  gibing  at  the  sleep 
ing  man,  making  wry  faces  the  while. 

CHORUS  of  TROGLODYTES,  still  concealed. 

Out  of  the  mouldering  slime  we  are  crawling, 
Over  the  rocks  of  the  pool  we  come  sprawling. 

Heads  of  more  TROGLODYTES  appear  over  rocks  in  grotto. 
FIRST  TROGLODYTE. 
Mushroom  sprite  of  hate, 
Venomous  I  wait 
Where  the  adders  lurk, 
From  the  nether  mirk 
Creep  I  now  to  dance — 
O  the  gladsome  chance — 
O'er  this  sodden  fool, 
And  his  nightmare  rule. 

Capers  around  ANDRAEON  who  stirs  uneasily  and  groans  in  his 
sleep. 

CHORUS. 

Bred  in  dank,  fetid  pits,  earth's  sun  denying, 
Prowl  we  with  poisoned  breath,  virtue  defying. 


Ad  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  47 

VOICE. 

Treachery  am  I, 
ANOTHER  VOICE. 

Mine  the  murd'rous  lie, 
ANOTHER  VOICE. 

I  brutality, 
ANOTHER  VOICE. 

Base  venality, 
ANOTHER  VOICE. 

Hatred — in  the  dust, 

Greed  and  savage  lust. 

ANOTHER  VOICE. 

Visage  gaunt  and  sere, 
Blasphemous  I  leer. 

ANDRAEON  waves  his  arms  aloft  and  groans  more  loudly. 

CHORUS. 

List  what  the  man-thing  in  agony  mutters, 
Ho !  at  our  gambols  he  strangles  and  stutters ! 

They  dance  around  and  over  ANDRAEON. 
ANDRAEON,  half  awake. 

Help,  I  plunge  through  fire, 
Smothered  I  expire ! 

FIRST  TROGLODYTE. 

Prod  him  with  your  spear, 
Imp  of  guilty  fear. 

ANDRAEON,  rising. 

Save  me,  powers  on  high, 

Harken  or  I  die ! 

TROGLODYTES  draw  back  until  he  sinks  down  again. 
FIRST  TROGLODYTE. 

Caper  on  his  breast, 

Iron-shod  unrest. 


48  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  III 

A  TROGLODYTE  dances  on  ANDRAEON'S  chest.    He  shrieks  and 
springs  up,  TROGLODYTES  closing  around  him. 

CHORUS. 

Flit  away,  brothers,  the  zenith  is  paling, 
Hustle  the  victim  and  stifle  his  wailing, 
Down  to  the  ooze  and  chill  darkness  eternal 
Hale  we  the  craven  for  tortures  infernal. 

TROGLODYTES,  plunge  into  pool,  carrying  ANDRAEON  on  their 
shoulders,  screaming  and  struggling. 

CURTAIN. 


SCENE  II:    The  same,  before  dawn  the  next  morning.    Enter 
ARDORIX  on  trail. 

ARDORIX,  looking  about  him. 

Hail,  maid,  whose  eyes  shall  dull  the  dawn, 
What  boughs  wave  reverent  o'er  thy  head? 

THERA  appears  from  trunk  of  the  laurel,  pausing  near  the  tree. 
THERA,  with  finger  on  lips. 

Hush,  soldier,  soft,  Alida  sleeps, 

And  e'er  she  wakes,  a  tale  I — 

ALIDA  steps  from  the  laurel's  trunk,  advancing  without  perceiv 
ing  ARDORIX. 

ALIDA. 

0 

I  dreamed  of  rippling  waters,  till 
A  cloud  filmed  all  the  forest,  then 
A  troop  of  mourning  spirits — 

Seeing  ARDORTX. 
Ah 

You  came — I  thank  you,  warrior; 
Forgive  my  fears — I'm  sore  distraught, 
My  sire  is  lost  and  I  despair 
Unaided  e'er  to  find  him. 


Act  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  49 

ARDORIX. 

Peace, 
My  life,  my  sword  are  yours  to  sway — 

THERA,  advancing  and  drawing  ALIDA  to  her. 
My  heart  is  wrung  for  you,  sweet  child, 
Be  strong, — I  cannot  tell  you  all, 

ALIDA. 

What  terror  in  your  voice? — O — speak! 
THERA. 

I  know  your  father's  fate,  it  came 

Unto  me  in  the  night — 

ALIDA. 

O  cruel! 
THERA. 

I  cannot  tell  you  what  or  where, 
But  he  has  passed  beyond  your  ken 
To  nevermore  return.     Dear  one, 
That  I  might  ease  the  ache. 
ARDORIX. 

Of  air 

How  feeble  is  my  sword  in  this! 
Unbuckles  sword  and  scabbard  and  lays  them  on  a  bank  near 

grotto. 
ALIDA. 

0  give  me  but  my  father!  O 

1  see — I  see — the  shroud  that  wrapped 
The  smiling  wood,  the  mourning  souls, 
I  sense  it  all! — O  cruel  night! 

O  false  groves,  were  you  sworn  thus  to  shatter  my  peace? 
O  ye  gods,  were  your  altars  kept  burning  for  this? 
May  your  vengeance  on  him  my  devotion  release! 
But — ah  no ! — that  way  yawns  a  black,  hopeless  abyss ! 
Could  I  drink  then  of  Lethe,  or  sink  'neath  its  wave 
While  the  lilt  of  the  lark  sounded  clear  as  of  yore ! 
Yet  with  heart  full  to  bursting  his  life  I  still  crave — 
Hear  me,  Jove,  while  in  anguish  I  mercy  implore. 


50  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  III 

PAN  is  heard  singing  in  the  distance,  presently  he  enters. 

PAN. 

Lo  the  trees  are  black-shadowed,  the  dawning  o'ercast 
By  the  cloud  of  your  sorrow.    The  gods  are  not  cold 
But  e'en  Jove  on  his  throne  wields  no  power  o'er  the  past, 
And  no  boon  in  our  gift  would  we  wanton  withhold; 
Though  you  ask  for  the  azure  that  arches  the  sky, 
Though  you  sigh  for  the  diamonds  that  gleam  in  the  dew, 
I  will  grant  you  each  treasure  that  gladdens  your  eye, 
I  will  conjure  rare  magic  to  lessen  your  rue. 

Exeunt  PAN  and  THERA. 

ARDORIX,  approaching  ALIDA. 
Sad,  doubly  sad  thy  grief  to  me, 
O  that  I  had  the  power  to  soothe ! 
Shy  wildflower  fair  in  savage  wood, 
Let  my  arm  shield  thee  from  the  blast. 
Is  there  among  thy  Grecian  gods 
One  god  of  love?    Then  pray  to  him, 
And  may  he  whisper  what  I  feel; 
My  tongue  alas  were  rude  to  thee. 

ALIDA,  musing. 

Alone,  alone,  all  gone  but  him. 

Does  love  glide  like  a  quest'ning  ghost? 

To  ARDORIX. 

To  you  I  sent  last  eve,  this  morn 
You  faithful  come,  it  stirs  my  heart; 
And  yet  to  love? — ah  me,  your  sword, 
The  battle  anger  of  your  eyes, 
The  lust  for  steel  and  blood  and  death, — 
No,  no,  O  Gaul,  not  love,  not  love; 
Diana's  shrine  I'll  seek  straightway, 
Her  votary  I — 

ARDORIX. 

Would  that  I  bore  the  eagle's  pinions, 
Fleet  would  I  soar  with  thee  through  space — 
Monarch  to  view  my  high  dominions, 
And  'mid  the  stars  thy  heart  embrace. 


Act  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  51 

Speak  not  to  me  of  battle-hating 
Lest  this  same  sword  thy  love  should  force, 
Proud  of  my  race  I  am  done  with  waiting, 
Think  not  to  stem  my  passion's  course. 

ALIDA. 

Noble  I  called  thee?     'Twas  mere  dreaming 
If  thy  stern  arms  such  victory  seek. 
Ah  what  may  lurk  'neath  bravest  seeming ! 
And  you  the  champion  of  the  weak ! 

ARDORIX. 

Sweet,  but  your  wrath  my  heart  is  wronging, 
Loving,  thy  soul  to  love  I'd  bend, 
Ardent  I  chafe  with  hopeless  longing 
Till  I  am  fired  my  love  to  rend. 

ALIDA. 

Frenzy  consumed,  such  love  would  alter; 
Helpless,  my  heart  I  still  withhold. 
Dian,  support  me  lest  I  falter, 
Or  in  thy  breast  thy  maid  enfold! 
What  though  you  won  the  outward  token? 
Figure  and  face  that  fancy  caught; 
Yet  with  the  inner  radiance  broken, 
Winning,  'twere  lost  what  most  ye  sought. 

ARDORIX,  stepping  backward,  and  kneeling. 
Deep  in  my  heart  a  chord  has  sounded; 
What  is  the  force  that  daunts  my  steel? 
Chastened  I  kneel  with  awe  unbounded, 
Loved  or  despised,  thy  liegeman  leal. 

A  GAUL  comes  leaping  down  the  trail  over  the  rocks,  pausing  at 
the  grotto,  brandishes  a  sword  dyed  red.  At  first  sound  of 
his  approach  ARDORIX  leaps  to  his  feet. 

GAUL,  as  he  approaches. 

Son  of  Be'al,  mark  my  brand! 
'Tis  the  sword  of  Fire, 
Lighting  far  the  eager  land, 


52  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  III 

Rousing  youth  and  sire; 
Forged  in  consecrated  flame, 
Blessed  with  awful  prayer; — 
Wear  ye  proud  the  Gallic  name? 
To  the  muster  fare! 

ARDORIX  takes  step  toward  his  sword,  but  ALIDA  arrests  him 
with  a  gesture. 

Buckle  on  the  battle-blade 

While  the  beacon  burns, 

Speed  thee  to  Dodona's  shade 

Ere  the  noon- tide  turns! 

"May  the  sluggard  die  the  death, 

Fear  the  craven  freeze! 

And  with  blast  like  vampire's  breath, 

Fiends  the  traitor  seize! 

Let  the  words  with  terror  fall," 

Wild  the  clansman  cry : 

"He  who  last  shall  heed  the  call 

On  these  stones  shall  die." 

GAUL  runs  ojf  into  the  forest;  ARDORIX  snatches  up  his  sword 
and  starts  to  buckle  it  about  him. 

ARDORIX. 

The  clan  has  called,  swift  must  I  fly, 
And  you — 

ALIDA. 

Think  not  of  me  in  strife, — 
O  hateful  summons,  do  you  go 
Thus  blindly  like  a  slave  in  chains? 

ARDOKIX. 

You  saw  that  sword? — I  must  or  die. 
O  that  we  parted  bound  in  heart! 

ALIDA. 

Ah  no,  when  first  you  loose  your  steel 
My  heart  shall  be  the  empty  sheath 
By  love  forsaken — 


Act  III  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  53 

ARDORIX,  springing  toward  her. 

Then — you  love? 

Ah,  fate,  to  set  me  thus  at  naught! 
And  yet,  ye  groves,  how  fair  ye  shine! 
But,  maid  of  worlds,  you  love  me  now? 

ALIDA. 

My  tongue  high  treason  dropped — but  no, 
I  might  have  loved  had  not  grim  war 
Passed  like  a  foul  hand  o'er  your  brow. 

ARDORDC. 

What  would  you  now? 
ALIDA. 

Renounce  for  me 

This  savage  life,  embrace  my  gods. 
ARDORIX,  recoiling. 

O  that  joy  can  so  mingle  with  pain, 

And  the  voice  that  brings  heaven  strike  chill  to  my  sense! 

If  the  shield  of  my  honor  I  stain, 

What  alas  could  I  prize  for  my  shame's  recompense? 

Shall  the  blood  of  my  blood  niid  me  cold? 

Shall  the  sons  of  my  mother  seek  peril  alone? 

Ah  remember  the  battles  of  old, 

And  dare  think  at  the  muster  my  tribe  to  disown! 

ALIDA. 

It  were  brave  to  clash  swords  with  the  foe, 

It  were  braver  to  war  with  the  demons  within. 

To  thy  baser  of  selves  deal  the  blow, 

With  the  gods  for  thy  armor  such  valor  would  win. 

ARDORIX  paces  up  and  down  and  points  despairingly  to 
the  sun  now  mounting  high  in  the  heavens. 

O  your  love  was  but  words  on  the  gale, 

Since  you  turn  from  our  trysting  a  sword  to  embrace, 

But  if  o'er  you  its  spell  should  prevail 

Then,  alas,  nevermore  shall  you  look  on  my  face 

Starts  as  if  to  leave,  pauses  a  moment. 


54  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  III 

ARDORIX. 

Ah  for  shame  that  I  falter  and  doubt! 
Yet  Alida  such  agonies  shine  in  your  eyes, 
That  one  glance  puts  my  firmness  to  rout, 
And  I  linger  half-won  till  fresh  torments  arise. 

Points  again  to  sun. 
Fast  approaches  the  mustering  hour, 
With  my  sword  I  shall  soon  hew  an  end  to  despair, 

Raises  hands  to  heavens. 
I  forswear  her,  inexorable  power, 

Starts  again  to  buckle  on  sword. 
And  adieu,  maiden  lovely — adieu,  spirit  rare ! 

Turns  to  gaze  for  the  last  time  on  ALIDA  standing  with  head 
bowed;  he  pauses  in  the  buckling  of  his  armor,  and  strug 
gles  to  master  himself,  takes  a  step  to  depart  but  suddenly 
overcome,  dashes  back  to  her  side. 
ARDORIX. 
Alida,  see,  I  fling  it  far  for  thee! 

Flings  sword  with  great  force  into  rocks  of  grotto  where  it 

falls  with  loud,  hollow  clang. 
O  Frozen  Fire,  there  dies  some  part  of  me! 
ALIDA,  as  if  awakening  from  trance. 

The  sword!    O  Ardorix,  your  soul  is  free! 

Embraces  him. 

Pipes  of  PAN  sound  in  the  distance. 
ARDORIX  and  ALIDA. 

Once  love  was  tender,  now  love  is  strong ; 
Reverent  we  render  homage  and  song. 
Once  skies  were  saddened;  all  golden  glows, 
All  earth  is  gladdened  since  love  arose. 
Hearts  rhythmic  beating  take  up  the  strain, 
Joyous  repeating,  "Love,  love  shall  reign." 
One  flutters  clinging,  with  high  desire, 
One  upward  winging,  chastened  by  fire. 

CURTAIN. 


Act  IV  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  55 


ACT  IV 

SCENE:  The  Oaks  of  Dodona.  TIME:  Noon  the  same  day. 
A  dense  oak  forest,  with  the  branches  meeting  overhead.  In  a 
small  clearing  is  an  irregular  circle  of  large  stones  with  a 
large  flat  one  in  the  center  (the  Cromlech),  with  a  small  fire 
burning  between  two  stones  in  front  of  it.  The  large  rocks 
are  hung  with  festoons  of  oak  leaves;  a  rude  sun-dial  to  the 
left  of  the  Cromlech.  DRUIDS  discovered  grouped  about  the 
Cromlech  in  a  half  circle,  MELD  immediately  behind  it  and 
WERIN  and  NERVO  on  left  and  right.  DRUIDS  (eight  or 
ten  in  number)  dressed  in  white  flowing  robes  with  heavy 
chains  about  necks,  and  chaplets  of  oak  leaves. 

NERVO,  slowly  chants. 
Shade  of  the  sacred  oak, 
Breathe  our  sweet  altar  smoke, 
Omens  our  prayers  invoke, 
Be'al,  O  Sun! 

All-healing  mistletoe, 
Banish  thy  suppliant's  woe, 
Let  us  the  fates  foreknow — 
Great  only  One ! 

CHORUS  or  DRUIDS. 
Hark  to  the  wind  in  the  trees  I 
The  voice  of  One  on  high. 
What  is  the  word  in  the  breeze? 
"The  brave  shall  win  or  die." 

WERIN,  slowly  chants. 
Kindle,  O  fire,  and  burn, 
So  we  for  wisdom  yearn, 
And  in  thy  crackling  learn 
Glory  or  gloom. 


56  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  IV 

CHORUS  OF  DRUIDS. 

See,  blaze  the  embers  red, 
Blood  and  more  blood  is  shed! 
Whose  is  the  gory  dead? 
Vict'ry  or  doom? 

Mark  how  the  clouds  scud  away ! 

The  mantle  of  the  Light, 

Girded  for  battle  array, 

When  One  shall  wield  his  might ! 

BELLOVAX  and  other  warriors  garbed  for  battle  begin  to  enter 
singly  and  in  twos  and  threes,  and  as  they  continue  to  ar 
rive  are  greeted  with  shouts  and  rattling  of  spears  on  shields 
by  those  already  present. 
MELD,  chants  more  rapidly. 

Children  of  Fire,  so  cold? 

What,  these  the  hearts  of  old! 

Be'al  our  shame  behold — 

Gauls  known  to  fear ! 
Assembled  warriors  shout  angrily  and  clash  swords  on  shields. 

Who  to  your  shouts  will  hark? — 

Bravery's  last  feeble  spark; 

Cowards  that  shun  the  dark, 

Why  are  they  here? 

Warriors  shout  still  louder  and  rattle  shields  angrily. 
CHORUS,  chants. 

What  to  our  god  is  most  sweet? 

A  vict'ry-reddened  field. 

What  shall  we  lay  at  his  feet? 

The  wretch  who  thinks  to  yield. 
CLANSMEN  continue  to  arrive  amid  shouting  and  clashing  of 

shields. 
CHORUS  OF  CLANSMEN. 

At  the  call  we  fly, 

Our  war-scarred  helmets  flashing; 

Wave  the  banners  high, 

For  steel  on  steel  is  clashing ! 


Act  IV  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  57 

Who  but  burns  to  charge  the  foemen? 

Who  but  hails  the  fiery  omen 

Of  our  triumph  in  the  embers?    Forward  sons  of  the  Gael! 

Clash  swords  on  shields. 
Melts  the  northern  snows 
Before  our  broadswords  flaming, 
Droops  the  southern  rose 
Our  chilling  blight  proclaiming. 
Be'al  launch  thy  human  lightning, 
Brothers,  arm!  the  harness  tight'ning 
For  the  tumult  that  wins  glory  for  the  sons  of  the  Gael! 

All  shout. 
MELD  to  WERIN. 

Brother,  mark  the  dial's  hour. 
WERIN. 

Narrows  fast  its  shade. 
MELD. 

Clansmen,  let  the  laggard  cower 

When  the  noon  is  made ! 

Let  our  sentence  chill  the  Gaul, 

Terror  bid  him  fly: 

He  who  last  shall  heed  the  call 

On  these  stones  shall  die ! 

All  groan  and  rattle  shields. 
CHORUS  of  CLANSMEN  and  DRUIDS. 

He  who  last  shall  heed  the  call 

On  these  stones  shall  die ! 

MELD  to  BELLOVAX. 

Chieftain,  are  your  clansmen  met 
And  the  broadswords  bared? 

BELLOVAX. 

Priest  most  high,  they  eager  fret, 
For  the  march  prepared. 
Few  are  missing  from  the  host, 
Scan  our  ranks,  O  seer. 


58  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  IV 

FIRST  GAUL. 

Would  that  he  we  prize  the  most, 
Ardorix,  were  here. 

BELLOVAX. 

Ardorix,  the  Gallic  scourge, 
What!  that  valiant  late? 

MELD. 

Ardorix,  thy  fleet  foot  urge, 
Trifle  not  with  fate! 

Warriors  exchange  uneasy  glances  and  murmur  among  them 
selves. 

SECOND  GAUL. 
Lightning-wielder,  brother,  speed! 

FIRST  GAUL. 

He  were  ever  first. 
SECOND  GAUL. 

He  who  in  the  van  should  lead, 

Will  he  die  accurst? 

Two  or  three  more  GAULS  straggle  in  and  are  greeted  with  sub 
dued  shouts  and  groans. 

BELLOVAX. 

The  lists  are  closed,  but  one  has  failed 
The  solemn  summons  of  his  race. 
One  laggard,  one — oh  woe! 

GAULS  in  chorus. 

O  woe! 

Rattling  of  shields  and  groans. 
BELLOVAX. 

O  sacred  prophet  of  the  oak, 
The  chieftain  Ardorix  has  shamed 
The  once  high  prowess  of  his  line. 

GAULS  in  chorus. 
Then  cursed  be  Ardorix!    Woe,  woe! 


Act  IV  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  59 

Enter  ARDORIX  rapidly,  without  sword  or  armor,  pausing  at 
groans  and  angry  murmur  that  goes  up.  Advances  slowly 
to  the  center. 

DRUIDS  in  chorus. 

Anger  on  high,  descend, 
Baleful  the  traitor  rend; 
Once  more  thine  own  defend — 
Woe,  Be'al,  woe! 
Swordless,  O  hateful  sight — 
Death  to  the  sluggard  knight! 
Haste  the  dread  lustral  rite! 
Woe,  woe,  woe! 

GAULS  in  chorus,  clashing  swords  against  shields. 

O  Be'al! 
MELD. 

All  for  the  sacrifice  prepare, 

The  victim  seize  and  bind;  (to  BELLOVAX)  O  chief, 

Now  by  these  sacred  shades,  yon  man 

To  death  by  torture  I  condemn ! 

CLANSMEN  groan  and  bow  their  heads;  two  GAULS  seize  AR 
DORIX.  A  clap  of  thunder  sounds.  All  start. 

BELLOVAX. 

O  priest,  thy  word  of  doom  is  law. 
ARDORJX,  struggling  free  from  his  captors. 

0  ye  gods  I  never  knew 
Till  a  maiden  bore  me  light, 

And  earth  was  sweeter  for  the  love  she  gave, 

Humble  suppliant  I  sue 

For  your  favor  in  my  plight, 

Or  at  the  stake  my  new-born  faith  to  save. 

At  thy  altars  in  the  grove 

1  have  pledged  my  soul  to  thee, 

And  will  ye  have  my  first  prayer  be  my  last? 

And  the  oracle  of  Jove 

Could  its  magic  this  foresee, 

Or  is  the  star  that  rules  me  overcast? 


60  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Ad  IV 

And  the  solemn  vow  I  made 

As  an  earnest  to  the  gods 

To  sway  the  councils  of  my  tribe  to  peace! 

Ah  what  men  I  would  persuade — 

But  what  matters  fearful  odds! — 

Turning  suddenly  on  DRUIDS. 
O  priests  of  wrath,  depart  the  land  of  Greece ! 
MELD. 

0  what  blasphemy  we  hear, 

Seize  the  wretch  who  vaunts  his  shame, 
And  with  his  impious  blood  the  altars  slake ! 

WERIN. 

To  his  treason  stop  the  ear, 

And  heap  high  the  sacred  flame 

And  bind  the  monster  to  the  torture  stake ! 

ARDORIX. 

And  ye  brothers  of  my  race, 
By  the  mem'ry  of  our  sires, 

1  beg  you  sheathe  the  swords  of  savage  lust. 
Flee  the  prophets  of  disgrace, 

And  abjure  yon  guilty  fires, 

'Twere  better  that  your  brands  in  honor  rust ! 

Some  of  the  CLANSMEN  in  chorus. 

O  cast  him  in  the  flame, 
Denier  of  our  name! 

Seize  ARDORIX;  a  clap  of  thunder  again  heard. 
DRUIDS. 

O  hear  the  heavens  quake, 
Quick  bind  him  to  the  stake! 

Other  CLANSMEN  in  chorus. 
Nay,  hold,  he  turned  the  tide 
When  Gaul's  last  hope  had  died. 
No  torture  for  the  brave, 
But  speed  him  to  his  grave! 


Act  IV  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  61 

Opposing  sides  contend  with  each  other,  shouting  and  brandish 
ing  swords,  the  friends  of  ARDORIX  finally  prevailing. 

BELLOVAX,  advancing. 

Now  by  the  sacred  oak, 
High  vengeance  I  invoke; 
The  prisoner  behead 
And  Be'al  take  the  dead! 

GAULS  strip  jerkin  from  ARDORIX  and  loosen  garments  about 
his  shoulders,  binding  him. 

ARDORIX. 

Do  you  still  watch  my  fate, 
Great  Jove?    Help,  ere  too  late! 
Alida,  pray  for  me, 
I  dying  sigh  for  thee. 

Enter  ALIDA,  rushes  between  the  astonished  GAULS  and  flings 
herself  upon  ARDORIX. 

Alida! — Jove  is  good! 

ALIDA. 

Alas! 

0  Ardorix,  what  mean  these  bonds? 

ARDORIX. 

'Tis  only  that  I  die  for  love  of  you, 
And  may  my  end  be  worthy  of  your  eyes; 
'Tis  bitter-sweet  to  read  your  anguish  true, 
And  hard  to  ease  the  heart  with  hollow  sighs. 

GAULS  spring  forward  with  raised  swords  to  force  ALIDA 
from  ARDORIX,  but  their  blades  remain  suspended  in 
mid-air  and  will  not  descend  towards  her.  DRUIDS 
and  CLANSMEN  start  back  super stitiously. 

What!    Has  your  sweetness  power  to  charm  their  steel? 
How  witching  is  the  silver  of  your  tone! 

1  close  my  eyes  and  in  rapt  fancy  feel 

A  paradise  where  sings  your  voice  alone. 


62  THE  PASSING  or  PAN  Act  IV 

ALIDA. 

Nay,  love,  the  handles  of  their  swords  but  show 
Their  kinship  for  the  living  wood  and  fear 
To  draw  the  wrath  of  Pan  if  falls  a  blow, 
For  by  his  mark  all  live  things  hold  me  dear. 

DRUIDS  surround  MELD  in  consultation.  In  a  moment  they 
despatch  several  warriors  into  the  forest. 

Then  let  us  hope  since  thus  the  gods  defend, 
For  he  they  bless  is  clad  in  armor  strong, 
Or  if  the  web  is  woven  to  its  end, 
The  sad  last  hour  of  love  an  hour  prolong. 

ARDORIX. 

For  I  will  bear  thy  love  through  seas  of  fire, 
Or  plunged  in  timeless  void  and  boundless  dark, 
And  though  this  conquered  frame  will  swift  expire, 
To  thee,  dear  one,  my  soul  shall  ever  hark. 

ALIDA. 

O  I  will  meet  thee  on  the  Stygian  shore, 

And  we  will  seek  the  far  Elysian  fields 

Where  war  and  hate  are  banished  evermore, 

And  Love  o'er  all  her  rose-wreathed  scepter  wields. 

Re-enter  GAULS,  bearing  stones  with  which  they  beat  ARDORIX 
and  ALIDA  apart.  ARDORIX  struggles,  helpless,  and  ALIDA 
falls  in  swoon.  Enter  PAN  in  the  disguise  of  an  itinerant 
peddler,  playing  on  pipes.  GAULS  spring  forward  to 
oust  the  intruder,  but  the  god  withstands  them  without 
apparent  effort  and  they  shrink  back  affrighted. 

PAN,  advancing  to  where  ALIDA  lies. 
Come  away,  come  away, 
Bobolink's  singing, 
Come  away,  come  away, 
Whither  he's  winging. 

ALIDA  recovers  consciousness  and  rises  slowly. 
What  savag'ry  makes  riot  here? 


Act  IV  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  63 

ALIDA. 

On  the  brink  of  the  stream  of  my  sorrow 
Shines  Sleep's  gray  folded  wing. 
And  I  yearn  for  the  calm  of  the  morrow 
And  the  peace  that  Death  can  bring. 
In  the  hour  of  my  soul's  last  devotion, 
Great  Jove,  thy  clemency; 

Turning  to  PAN. 

And  assailed  by  love's  deepest  emotion, 

I  ask  my  boon  of  thee. 

Then  release  from  his  fetters  defiling 

This  chief  from  war  forsworn, 

And  the  host  of  his  kindred  exiling, 

E'en  grant  him  life  new-born. 

Shall  he  die  with  thy  magic  unspoken, 

A  death  some  slave  may  give? 

Then  I  offer  my  blood  as  love's  token — 

To  die  that  he  may  live. 

ARDORIX,  straining  at  his  bonds. 

O  death  beloved,  O  shameful  life, 
No,  no,  I  will  not  live! 

BELLOVAX,  advancing  with  GAULS. 

How  now ! 
Who  dares  to  break  our  rites? 

PAN,  throwing  of  cloak. 

Peace,  all! 

All  pause  as  if  transfixed. 

0  maiden  sorrowing,  draw  near; 

1  fear  my  power  to  far  exert 
Among  the  troubled  wreck  of  things; 
For  temples  fall,  old  faiths  and  gods 
Are  straining  'neath  the  press  of  time, 
And  hurtle  through  a  void  to  what? 
Thy  lover  I  can  save — for  what? 

And  thy  sweet  breath  restore — for  what? 


64  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  Act  IV 

When  unbelief  with  ghoulish  tread 

Creeps  out  where  war  and  lust  have  passed, 

Shall  hearts  like  thine  for  long  survive? 

ARDORIX. 
Then  welcome,  death! 

ALIDA. 

What  fate  is  left? 
PAN. 

O  that  a  god  might  stoop  to  tears! 

The  Dryads  all  have  fled;  the  wood 

No  longer  rings  with  merry  shouts; 

These  two  alone  believe  in  me. 

Last  boon  of  all  I  offer  now. 

Takes  his  pipes . 

O  heed  the  call  of  the  westland  isles, 
Where  aye  a  sky  of  azure  smiles, 
And  Zephyr  woos  with  sportive  wiles, 
And  billowed  cloud-ships  sail. 
O  breathe  the  faint  aroma  blown 
From  Pan's  star-blossomed  leafy  throne 
In  cedar  groves  with  violets  sown, 
And  nodding  hare-bells  pale. 

Tall,  tall  the  westland  pines  do  grow 
And  sweet  its  winds  dream-laden  blow, 
And  O  such  beams  the  sun  doth  throw 
In  the  westland  far  and  rare. 
O  joy-enthralling  westland  vales, 
O  sheen  on  emerald-sprinkled  swales 
In  mountain-girded  fairy  dales — 
O  westland  shining  fair. 

PAN  raises  his  hand,  a  flash  of  lightning  follows,  and  the  trees 
divide,  showing  distant  beautiful  islands  in  a  summer  sea 
at  sunset.  The  GAULS  all  recoil  and  fall  on  knees  with 
bowed  heads.  The  DRUIDS  withdraw  to  the  rear,  and  re 
main  standing  with  faces  averted. 


Act  IV  THE  PASSING  OF  PAN  65 

PAN. 

What  golden  splendors  robe  the  west 
In  regal  hues  to  greet  the  blest, 
And  when  they  end  the  weary  quest, 
The  hearts  of  men  renew; 
Then  jealous  life  why  longer  hold 
The  soul  mid  spectre-passions  old, 
When  glorified  the  skies  unfold? 
O  warring  world,  adieu! 

PAN  extends  his  arms  heavenward  and  with  the  last  words,  mounts 
on  the  sunbeams  through  the  tree-tops,  with  ALIDA  and 
ARDORIX  clasping  his  hands. 

CURTAIN. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
50c  per  volume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per  volume  after  the  sixth  day.  Books  not  in 
demand  may  be  renewed  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 


NOV  26  1917 

'mm  14  m 

SEP  4  19W 

JUL  16  1920 


I  1995 

CIRCULATION  DEPT. 


RECEIVED 

:  0  2  1995 


50m-7.'ie 


16756 


U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


C05E2D750T 


329482 


\< 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


